Nobody's Side
by Fishyicon
Summary: Jak was the hero and martyr of the Underground, held in high regards - by all but me. I simply wanted to see that monster killed, and preferably by my hand. Perhaps I shared the occasional trait with my older brother after all. . . .
1. Before the Beginning

**A/N: Since I'm lacking in the way of inspiration for more chapters at the moment (and since school scarcely gives me the time to write even if I was inspired), I have decided to go back and edit this little story of mine. That means fixing verb tenses and typos, deleting rambling notes, revamping the vocabulary and fixing a certain plot hole I don't think anyone caught. (If you did catch it, PM me. I assure you, I will be shocked!)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the title Jak and Daxter. Naughty Dog does! **

**Enjoy! And please R&R.**

* * *

Part One: Chapter 1: Before the Beginning

Birthdays have never been all that exciting in my family. But when you do not have much, you learn to appreciate what you have.

For instance: I did not have parents. They were both killed by Metal Head monsters when I was little. But I did have two older brothers that loved and took care of me. Even though we had next to no money, the two of them had worked to prepare a birthday celebration for me, their younger sister.

I saw the decorations when I came home that day. Well, they were relatively modest decorations, but I figured it was the thought that counted. There was a small cake with a mostly burnt out candle in the center of the table. Wild flowers had been placed in an old, cracked vase on the counter to my left. A couple of badly-wrapped presents sat on the floor next to the far wall.

In short, my brothers had gone all-out.

"Erol? Lex? Anyone home?" I called into the emptiness, not expecting either of my brothers to answer. But to my surprise, I heard footsteps coming from the hallway.

"Shae? You're back already?" Erol's voice inquired, and a moment later he appeared in the main room. I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Happy twelfth Birthday!" he said cheerfully, and came over to hug me. I returned the hug and thanked him thoroughly. I liked this Erol more than the working one.

Erol was the oldest of the three of us, being twenty. When our parents died, he had to step up and be the family leader, and did a pretty good job of it in my opinion. He had joined the Krimzon Guard at the minimum age for new recruits, and had not stopped working since. It was the only way to keep a roof over our heads. But now, four years later, he was a much respected Officer. He worked extremely hard just to provide for us, and I was thankful for a brother like that.

On the other hand, I did not like the fact that in order to do so, he had to become a different person. The Erol I knew was caring and cheerful. Contrary to the KG Erol, who was strict, merciless and mean. I liked that I had the opportunity to see his good side at home. But I feared the day that he would come home as the same person he was at work.

"Is Lex home?" I asked him after he released me.

"No, he has a late shift tonight." He answered as he headed off to work on something in the kitchen. "But I thought we could wait for him before we started the celebration."

"Sounds good," I told him as I followed his lead and began to occupy myself in the small kitchen, "but you guys really didn't have to do that. I mean, it's just one more year."

"Of course we had to do something!" He replied incredulously. "It's your birthday, Shae."

"So? Food is more important."

Erol sighed, and turned around to face me. "It's important to us. We all have very hard lives, but we shouldn't. Especially not you. You're too young to worry about the things you do, and to live in the way that you do. How many kids do you see in the Slums?" He asked rhetorically.

I mirrored the defeated sigh. "Not many."

"Exactly. So you deserve to have a bit of fun, particularly on your birthday. Get it?" He asked.

"Got it." I responded animatedly.

"Good." He finalized, and we both laughed at our little joke. "Get it, got it, good" was something we had made up a while ago, and we had enjoyed using it ever since. We both settled back into our work; Erol foraging for something suitable to eat, me gathering dishes.

"Did I hear it was someone's birthday?" called a cheerful voice from the door suddenly, causing the two of us to look up from our work. Erol just smiled and turned back, but I hastily set the plates on the counter and ran to the door to greet my second brother with another embrace.

Lex was sixteen years old, which meant four years younger than Erol, but he the two were practically mirror images. They had the same fiery, orange hair and golden eye-colour. Their faces matched too, with the sharp, alert eyes and angular features. I suppose I look like them too, in that sense. I had the same features and hair, despite the fact that my hair was longer and did not stick up like theirs. My eyes are the same colour, too, but I have always believed them to be more brown than gold, despite what others told me.

Lex was wearing the standard KG uniform – minus the helmet and goggles – consisting of a grey and brown shirt and pants, red armour and accents, and heavy duty black combat boots. It was not the nicest uniform, and it took from my excitement to become a KG later. But Lex had promised we would find one that fit me. Unfortunately, he had to remain with one that was notably over-sized.

He had officially joined the Guard just this year; once again, at minimum age. There simply was not enough money to support three orphaned kids. At least KG got some food provided during the day, but unfortunately, they could not bring any home. Lex and Erol had tried on many occasions, but there was no way to sugar-coat it. I was not going to eat as well until I was old enough to join myself. That was likely one of the reasons they worked so hard to do things like this.

But I would not let them give me more to eat on a regular day. They worked for their rewards, no matter how insignificant those rewards turned out to be. And I was not about to let them take the short end of the stick for me. I spent the days with friends, doing whatever inclined me at the moment. They spent the day serving the city as under-paid, under-privileged guards. It was not hard to see who had it worse.

"Yeah, Lex, you're right." I said.

"Great!" He said enthusiastically. "Because it would've been weird if I was wrong. . . ."

I laughed. Lex was always making jokes, even through the toughest of times. It was one of the many things I admired about my big brother. Sure, Erol was a great role model too, but something was off. I could not tell you what that "something" was for my life, but it was there. With Lex, not so much. I just loved his carefree laugh and warm smile – even though he had to work for a living.

I sidestepped and let Lex pass by me into the kitchen. I heard my two brothers give each other a warm greeting, but since neither said anything to me after that I decided to head to my room.

I had been in the Garden Section of the City earlier, and it was virtually impossible for me to come out of there without mud all over my clothes. I quickly changed into something different, but I saved my nicer outfits for my courses the next day. The few kids who live in the Slums have very irregular timetables; we might have a full day, then a half day, then a day with no class at all, followed by a day with only one or two classes, and another day without class. But we were fortunate to even be allowed to go to school in the first place, regardless of our schedule. These were the Slums, where the motto was "Take what you can get and don't ask questions."

That is another reason the KG would get so many applications from this area – they offered food, shelter and better education if you wanted it. And most of us wanted it.

The KG had recently started a "Junior League" in addition to the regular Guard faction. It did not offer as much, and it was hard work, but it was supposed to be worth it. Although it still did not offer much in the way of food, you could get a solid twenty hours of schooling per week, and it gave you experience and favour when you finally did reach sixteen. You did have to train, though, and quite arduously at that. The Krimzon Guard Junior League was no walk in the park – but I needed it, and that was all that counted.

Of course, I still had to be thirteen to get in. One more year to go.

I looked in the small mirror and realized more than my clothes needed to be cleaned. My loose orange hair was wet and sticky at the ends, and I had to work through it for a few minutes to disentangle some small bits of leaves and sticks from it. I promised myself that the next time I visited the Gardens I would tie my hair back. After a brush had been run violently through the orange mess, I set about scrapping the grime and dirt off my face and long ears.

A few minutes later, Lex called me to dinner from down the hallway. I quickly stood and crossed the room. Halfway out the door I halted abruptly and grabbed my camera just as an after-thought. Regrettably, I had taken very few photographs in my life, and the time intervals between them were quite significant. It could not matter less to me, though, because it merely renewed the thrill of taking them when I remembered.

The meal passed in silence on my part. Lex and Erol chatted quietly about KG business between bites, even though there were so few of them. Dinnertime was over before it should have been, but thankfully we got to move on to dessert this evening. We had a quick laugh when the candle would not light, and we had to skip that part of the ceremony.

The cake was essentially bread with some long-expired fruit baked into it, and the icing had a sickly-sweet fruity flavour. All that laid aside, it was all right. I reckoned we were able to afford it because it was a substandard the baker had just been waiting for someone desperate to take off their hands. We ate it happily anyways, because we were exactly that desperate, I suspect. And the sweet flavour was a nice alteration from the plain, bitter taste of the majority of food we consumed.

Then I got to open the presents. I was quite excited in spite of myself. Even if they were not the most extravagant or expensive gifts, I just enjoyed the thrill of opening them.

Erol's was some new hair ribbons. Obviously, he noted the bits and pieces that got caught in my hair more and more often. I had a good laugh at that, and thanked him nicely.

Our neighbours had baked some little cookies and crackers, and had bundled some up for me. I loved the little snacks, but I made sure Erol and Lex ate some too. All three of us were fans of the realistic sugary taste (as opposed to the cake. . .).

Finally, Lex had found a cool blue eco rock near the Port, and decided to donate it to my trinket collection. I gathered interesting rocks, plants, knick-knacks, anything I deemed to be interesting. Especially items that used eco. Even though I was surrounded by the unreal, inexplicable matter anywhere I went, it never ceased to amaze me. The way it held shape in one form, but floated everywhere in another. It was, in a way, the perfect balance between solid, liquid and gas form; it was none and all of them at once – completely extraordinary.

"Thanks, Lex," I said, still marvelling over the twisting electric blue patterns that appeared alive within the rock.

"Hey, no problem, sis!" He said. "I know you like them, so what better person to keep it?"

"Thanks. And thank you again, Erol." I said, not neglecting my other brother. "I will put those to good use!"

He smiled half-heartedly. "It's not much. I wish we could get more, but. . . ." He trailed off.

"Hey, come on, it's not your fault that that stupid Commander Torn guy won't give you a shot!" I encouraged.

"Yeah, bro, no one in their right mind can avoid promoting you much longer!" Lex said in his slang-full voice. I would never get over his "teenager" way of talking.

Erol just pressed his lips together in a poor excuse for a grin. When he did that, it just meant he was thinking intensively. It was rubbing off from that serious side of his personality. And I did not like it. Not that he had to be smiling and laughing every second, but his disheartened moments were becoming more and more common.

I knew there was something going on behind the look and words, but I was not going to go there. Not at the moment. Instead, I thought I would try to lift the suddenly downcast atmosphere.

"Hey, how about we take a picture?" I suggested. Both of my brothers immediately objected to this new idea – but at least the mood was different. "Aww, come on, guys," I said, and immune to their protests, grabbed the camera and set it up. Or, at least, I tried to.

"Umm… help?" I asked tentatively. My request was met by an eye-rolling Lex who came to assist me in finding the timer button. The three of us may have had different talents, but none of those included programming; or anything to do with technology, for that matter. (Maybe it was better we lived disconnected from all of that. . .).

After five minute's fiddling with the device, we finally found a combination of switches that made the camera start to beep repetitively. Assuming we had done something right, we rushed to get in the picture before it set off. Thankfully, our awkward scramble through the small room got Erol to laugh, and the picture ended up quite nice, despite the fact that none of us were very photogenic. I later added it to my photo-book.

Life was hard. There was no avoiding that. But I _could_ try and make the best of it. I had friends, a family, and a life. A hard one, no doubt. But at the end of the day, things could be much worse. I had few things, but I was happy with what I did have.

Life was good. That was a better way to put it.

I thought things would stay that way forever.

I could not have been more wrong.

* * *

**I bet you're thinking Erol is very OOC. That is for a reason. All will make sense in the next chapter…**

**Questions, comments, concerns, criticisms? The usual, if it's not too much to ask.**

**~Fishyicon**


	2. Falling from the Sky

**A/N: Sorry this took so long, I know I missed the deadline; I apologize for the wait to the TWO people that reviewed. Was it really that bad? Or did the title and summary just not catch a single person's attention, and no one read it anyways? I rather not find out it was that second alternative, so if you like it, please review this time! I do not do any of those threats or offerings of cookies like other authors, though, so you'll have to stick with my heartfelt plea.**

**I should quickly declare my case for those who did read, though. I cannot type fast, so it takes me a little longer than the majority of other authors on this site. But then again, I would be willing to bet that I am much younger than other authors on this site. But the details of that information are confidential. I also went back and rewrote the entire thing, even though I was almost done, because frankly, it was so boring I couldn't even stand to write it anymore. I know it's not much better now, but I promise it will get better in the later chapters; I have it all planned out…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter" or any related names, etc. However, I do own my own characters such as Shae and Lex, if I can even claim rights over them, I suppose…**

**Please enjoy! **

**

* * *

**

Part 1: Chapter 2: Falling from the Sky

That had been two years ago.

Just two.

But so much could change in two years.

A person could change, for example. I changed; rather, the unexpected turns in my life changed me. I was no longer the innocent child I used to be. I couldn't afford to be her anymore. I was a member of the KG Youth League, in training to be a real member in a few years' time.

A real member like Lex.

Or like Erol. But I didn't want to be like Erol, not anymore.

Erol had become the thing I had always wished for his sake that he would become: Commander. After the last one quit, my oldest brother inherited his responsibilities. Baron Praxis had taken a liking to him, and that was that. He was now a Guard of the highest rank, which gave him a lot of money and privileges.

And I hated it.

In fact, I hated Erol. I hated the Baron for what he had done to him. I hated the KG for being so darn strict.

I hated a lot of things at the moment, but that was simply a part of my new personality. The same personality as all the other KG I worked with: hard, stern, hateful, vengeful. Everything I had worked not to become, I had become.

I hated this city for doing that to me, to everyone.

Lex and I stuck together to make it through the horror of everything. We tried to laugh, to have fun whenever we weren't being supervised by officers or other Guards. And when we did, we often got in trouble for it, which usually just made us laugh harder. There were so many inside jokes shared between the two of us, in a world where jokes were all but banned. We were seen as trouble-makers, delinquents.

And Commander Erol didn't approve.

"Shae, are you in there?" a voice called bitterly from the hallway, the owner banging roughly on the large metal door that separated me from him.

_Speak of the devil,_ I thought. "What do you want, Erol?"

"I'm going on a hunt and arrest mission, and you're coming with me."

"Oh, am I, now?" I yelled back, annoyed. I didn't see why Erol felt the need to drag me on some stupid outing during my alone time.

"Yes, and no arguing! I want you out here in one minute, and I'm counting!" Erol continued to draw out directions while I outfitted myself in the standard KG armour. It fit badly, as I had known it would from the moment I had joined the Youth League. It was much too big, but that was the point. It made me look more intimidating, more authoritative. A fourteen-year-old girl did not present the same threat as an older, more muscular man. But youth weren't intended to go on missions anyways, so no one had given a second thought to letting us wear ill-fitting uniforms.

"Shae!" Erol shouted impatiently from the hallway outside my KG quarters. I lived here during the week, along with three other girls my age. But we didn't see a lot of each other, except for at night, and then we were generally too tired from the day's activities to do much in the way of keeping up even a meager conversation. In Youth training, your day consisted of eating, studying, training, and sleeping. It was a very isolating job.

Before Erol had the chance to yell again, I shot out the door and stood for a moment, staring at Erol coldly as he did with me. He was in his navy and yellow commander's outfit, accented with the same red armour as the rest of us. He always wore it when he wanted to look "official", which was all the time. Come to think, I don't think he ever took it off if he could help it…

Finally, he straightened up and motioned for me to follow him. I took the silence as opportunity to get on his nerves. He already saw me as a rule-neglecting trouble-maker; a couple fun insults couldn't do any worse.

"Hate to complain, because I know you mean well," I began sarcastically, "but would you mind explaining why you had to drag me on this little "errand" of yours while I was enjoying my one-hour-per-week of time to myself? You couldn't have waited to pull me out of class? Then I wouldn't object."

Erol made a show of rolling his eyes. "Grow up, Shae. You need a little discipline if you want to amount to anything in the Krimzon Guard."

"And what if I don't want to?" I asked rhetorically. "What if I want out of this little faction of yours? What if I want something more out of life?" The joke I had begun with was mostly lost in this last protest.

"Then I suggest you give up on those fairy-tale dreams and wake up to reality. This is your life now, and sorry to say, but there's nothing you can do to change it," he stated, effectively ending that conversation.

We walked in silence to the front of the KG Fortress, also known as the Prison Fortress. So named because it was host to the prison, but most guards were not allowed to go in that area. There were a couple of other men there who followed Erol out the door in silence, neither acknowledging my presence. Some might find it rude, but after a year of being ignored and disrespected by everyone (but Lex), I was used to it.

The two guards walked directly behind my brother, while I trailed along a few feet farther down the road. I wished Lex were tagging along too. I had been seeing less and less of him in the Fortress, and that wasn't helping keep me grounded. In this life, everyone was either an enemy or an ally. Lex was the only true friend I had, but as long as I had one, I was already a step ahead of most.

We eventually made it to the center of the Industrial Section, a large area of the city completely made of large metal walls. They created a labyrinth-like landscape along the East side of Haven's Shield Wall. It was designed to keep the Metal Head monsters out, and the citizens in. Along the streets were small shops, an old hotel, a brewery, several entrances to the transit station and the power station. But not much else; most commerce and entertainment happened in Main Town, the market, the racing arena and the Port. The Industrial Area served the purpose described by its name: large industries and construction.

There was also a series of elevated pathways that traced the streets, making it easier for pedestrians to walk on the higher ground and restricting the zoomer traffic to the lower part. Guards patrolled both parts, however, and at the moment we found ourselves full-stopped on the aerial pathways on the edge of a main intersection. Zoomers drove quietly below us, and pedestrians continued their mostly aimless strolls along the walkway. It was a normal day in Haven City.

"Hey, Erol?" I asked quietly. "What exactly are we waiting for? I thought this was some sort of "hunt and arrest" gig." I made quotations with my fingers as I quoted him from earlier.

"Just shut your mouth and be a little patient," he snapped. "I know that's a stretch for you, but it's good practise."

"Fine," I sighed, rolling my eyes before I closed my mouth for the second time that day.

We stood there quietly for a good ten minutes before something happened. But it was a big something, if ever I've seen anything. Without notice, the ever-present polluted clouds began to pull apart, leaving a small void of blue in the sky. A sonic-boom rang from the air, and a comet of purple shot out of the gap of blue, plummeting straight down to the platform adjacent to us. The effect was what I would picture an explosion of Dark Eco being like.

There was chaos for a minute. A few people got knocked down from the impact of the beam, while others ran away in every direction. A substance that I could only describe as Dark Eco dust floated around the crash site for a time before it spun off and faded into nothing. A few clouds drifted in bunches as well before they too dissolved into the air.

And from the pandemonium, two figures emerged.

It was hard to see from a distance, but from what I could make out, there was an elf and a little orange rodent. Thankfully or not, Erol began to lead the two Guards and me towards the area, and I could distinguish them more clearly.

The elf was a young boy, who couldn't be much more than a couple years older than me. He had messy, gravity-defying blond hair, but it had green tints near the tips. Personally, I found it slightly too unique for my taste, but I wasn't one to judge with my long, fiery orange hair. His eyes were also bright, a light cerulean blue, and he wore an odd blue tunic with a three-strapped holster that held nothing at the moment. However, he had nothing on the small rat beside him. It had orange fur, the same shade as my hair, short, round ears, a long tail, and an aviator's cap with goggles perched on his head. Both sported brown, leather gloves.

The boy looked at his surroundings with a look of fascination, as if he were seeing the world for the first time. I realized this might have been right. I couldn't eliminate any possibilities. After all, he had fallen from the sky…

The rodent threw a metal bar away from him with a noise of disgust. Then it said something angrily to its blonder partner.

But rats couldn't talk!

Could they?

I was about to find out either way. Erol marched right up to the companions, giving me a start when he pulled out his Eco-pistol. He rarely used it in action – it was only for show. Even so, I got noticeably more worried than usual.

"There he is: move in!" stated the accompanying guard on my left. It then occurred to me they were going to arrest the kid! But they couldn't do that. Even if they had the right, what about the reason? He had fallen out of the sky moments ago, and yet Erol had known the whole time. And why would they take in someone so young at any rate? He looked my age, if not only slightly older. Nothing made sense, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut – for the time being, anyway.

Our formation approached the two figures, who had righted themselves into a standing position. "Step away from the animal," instructed the same unknown guard who had spoken just seconds prior.

The guard on my right grabbed for the rat, but he skilfully dashed between his legs before any of us could react. He continued to race away, but Erol had more imposing matters at hand.

"Forget the rat! The Baron wants him," he said. The boy's eyes grew huge with fear as the three men surrounded him. I kept a safe distance behind them. I almost screamed when one of the guards raised the back of his weapon towards the blonde's head.

"We've been waiting for you, Erol said evilly, and the guard brought the blunt end of the gun down. Hard.

The rat yelled something from a distance. Something only trained ears like mine would be able to detect. "Don't worry Jak! I'll save you before you know it!"

I looked away as the Guards picked the kid up and began to drag him off. Erol marched behind them that time, making sure I didn't escape – I could tell those were his intentions when he kept glancing back every few seconds. I knew better than to run off, but I had to admit the plan had crossed through my head at one point.

We walked in silence. I neither acknowledged nor looked at the three people in front of me. I simply stared at my red combat boots while my mind raced with questions. How had Erol known the two companions would appear then and there? Why had they arrested him? Had the boy done something wrong? Where had he come from, anyway? And what became of the rat he had been with? These questions and more swirled around in my head, but I came up with no plausible answers for any of them.

If I wanted any kind of help, I would need to talk with someone. Someone close. And since Erol was effectively out of the question, I would have to settle for my second oldest but far more likeable brother.

My only problem was finding him.

* * *

**I will try to be more consistent with updates once summer begins, but for now you'll have to bear with me. Teachers love to pile on the assignments and projects this time of year. But never fear: I will get the next chapter up… eventually. **

**So, questions, comments, applause or flames? Please click the review button and tell me your thoughts. **

**~Fishyicon**


	3. Troublesome Revelations

**A/N: In case I neglected to do so earlier, I would like to dedicate this story to my friend Anita. She is going to a different school next year, and I may never see her again. Anita, you've been a great friend and great inspiration for five years. Lex is pretty much you, with your strange obsessions, great (and rebellious) attitude, positive spirit and hilarious jokes and sarcasm. I love you! I hope you love this story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter"; Naughty Dog does. No little quirks, sorry.**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Part 1: Chapter 3: Troublesome Revelations

The Krimzon Guard Fortress was enormous. Locating one person was almost as hard as finding a needle in a haystack. Even knowing the layout absurdly well did nothing for you.

First of all, there were rooms to consider. Just like me, Lex would share a small living quarters with others in his rank. However, no one spent their time just hanging around. There were always things to do, patrol shifts to fill. It was not a weekend, so he wouldn't have gone home. But nonetheless, Lex would like as not have been there. I paged him for good measure, but as I expected, there was no answer.

That left many places to search. The gun course, the cafeteria, any one of the classrooms, the gym and the armoury were all equally likely guesses. And of course, patrol duty was still open. So, I picked one option and followed it through. One by one, I ruled out each part of the Fortress. Of course there were restricted areas, places where exclusively people like Erol could enter. Without a doubt, I was not allowed entry, but I doubted those rare privileges extended to Lex, either.

Was it Lex's break period? I had no way of knowing. They were mixed up every week or so. I was beginning to wonder whether that was done just for the sole purpose of keeping the Guards out of each other's business. If that was the case, it would make my job of tracking him down that much harder.

After an hour of searching, I was about to give up. I had already missed half-an-hour of class, although I couldn't have remembered which one if I tried. Normally, I would simply try to show up as often as possible. But if something else came up, I'd just shrug it off. I was disrespected and ignored by everyone in the KG. Why should I have treated them any different?

I didn't have time to change out of uniform, but I would not have been the first person to arrive clad in red armour. In fact, there was often more than one person still in proper KG attire. What one wore was not as high a priority as when one showed up.

I pulled out my schedule that was programmed to accommodate all the changes in schedule. But just as I was about to touch the button to make my timetable appear, I was knocked to the ground by someone who was clearly in a hurry. The force was like that of a transit train, and it threw me to the ground. I lost my grip on the agenda and it flew out of my hand. The device landed a few feet away, in the middle of a busy corridor. Had I been upright, I could have snatched it before anything happened, but sure enough, a large, booted foot stepped on the poor thing before I could even sit up and assess the damage done to me.

"Well done," I told the Guard who had crashed into me, but he or she had already taken off down the hallway, sprinting again. The figure bumped into several others on the route, but none took the same impact as I had. I might have gone after him, but there were other things demanding my attention at the moment.

I reached out and grabbed the electronic device before it could suffer the same fate over again. I was vaguely aware of a throbbing pain in my left shoulder, but I paid it no mind. I was more preoccupied with the damaged schedule in my hands. I crouched down next to the wall, out of harm's way, and gave the agenda the once-over. The screen was cracked, but other than that, it had made it out unscathed. I guessed it could handle a couple more simple functions before it gave out. When the screen flickered and turned dark, I knew my assumption had been wrong.

That left two choices: find my replacement schedule in my quarters, or simply give up. I surprised even myself when I began the trek back to the place with the bunk-beds that was barely an excuse for a room. I toyed absently with the broken gadget in my hands as I walked. My mind had drifted back to thoughts of the blond kid who had been arrested. Jak, his friend the rat had called him. I had to laugh – when it came down to it, the whole episode was too odd to believe. A strange boy and his best friend the talking rat who had fallen from the sky.

It would make a great story someday.

I puzzled over the whole of it for some time, but every question I posed came up empty. By the time I reached my room, I had given up on all but one query: Where were they?

The rat had run away before he had been snatched up. He could have ended up anywhere in a few hours. If he had kept running, and if he had a good sense of direction, he might have even made it to the other end of the city in the allotted time.

The boy had been captured by the KG, so he was presumably somewhere in the Fortress or in the palace. The thought caused a tremor to run down my spine; I would not wish either of those fates on anyone. Being in the palace meant being with the Baron, and that was automatically trouble. And the prison… well, it was a prison. What else was there to say?

I stepped into the chamber, abandoned as always, and quickly found my replacement agenda. I considered changing into other clothes, but it seemed frivolous. All I needed was some extra supplies that I promptly tossed into my bag and I was off.

However, the world seemed out to get me today. Not ten seconds after I had exited the quarters, someone else bumped into my already bruised shoulder. The contact sent me flying into an adjacent wall, but thankfully not to the ground once again.

"Please tell me. Did I miss an update that said make sure you bump into Shae today?" I muttered, mostly to myself, but loud enough so that my offender could hear.

"No, it's just "crash in to your sis" day," he replied, in a voice I knew all too well. One that was almost always accented with sarcasm and slang.

"Hey, Lex," I said. I tried to make it sound friendly, but it sounded too rough for my liking.

"Something wrong with your voice there, Shae?" Lex asked, but he could never make his tone sound serious if he tried.

"Sorry, I guess I've just hit hard surfaces a few too many times today," I replied.

He laughed good-heartedly and helped my into an actual standing position. For a while, I had only been upright thanks to generous help from the wall.

Suddenly, logical thoughts came rushing back to me.

"Lex, I need to talk to you," I said with a tone of urgency. It would have sounded better if my voice had been calmer and more collected, but hiding my emotions was not one of my strengths.

"Sure," he said. "What's up?"

I opened my mouth to tell him about all that had happened, but quickly closed it again. I remembered that some of the hallways were bugged, even if the camera or microphone wasn't visible. Many had broken down over time, and no one had bothered to fix them. Even so, better safe than sorry.

"Not here," I whispered. I didn't want to say anything, but Lex caught on when he saw my eyes scanning the corners. "Outside the Fortress."

"I was just on my way to do guard patrol in the Slums. You're welcome to join me," he said. Then he looked me over and chuckled. "And it looks like you're all ready."

He was right. In retrospect, keeping the uniform on gained me a good few minutes of time.

We walked back towards the front of the Fortress, which took a good ten minutes at least. But the company was better the second time around.

"Hey, don't you have training or something?" Lex asked. I gave him a look, not saying a word.

We both laughed.

* * *

When we arrived at the front, Lex checked in and added me as a trainee. When the man regulating the in-and-out traffic asked why I was accompanying someone when I should have been in class, Lex put on a very authoritative voice and politely explained the situation. I had to stifle a laugh because my brother did amazing impressions. He was quite the opposite of me, in the way that he could lie without even trying. The door guard didn't even give us a second look.

It was lucky we were going to the Slums. We both knew our way around, so we were free to just wander and were never in danger of getting lost. Secondly, there was less security in this section, mostly because it was so poor. Residents were lucky to get an hour of electricity a day, so the cameras were never active. That gave us perfect privacy to talk without the risk of being overheard.

Walking through the Slums sent a pang of nostalgia through me. It was so real that it almost hurt. The large, stone houses were uneven and ranged from two to four stories high. Some parts were made of concrete, others wood. It was all filthy and broken, but it fit.

When Erol became head Commander, we had moved out of the Slums and into Main Town. But it was almost sad to have a nice house when you rarely got to visit it anyway. I remembered how life here was hard, but yet… simple. Living standards weren't quite up to par, but you knew your place, and so did everyone else. For the most part, everyone had friends that liked and supported them. I remembered spending time with girls from my class, having fun, laughing as if there wasn't a worry in the world.

Once we were safely distanced from the KG Fortress, I told Lex what happened, sparing no details. If he was going to give me advice, he was going to need all the information he could gather. I began from when Erol came to collect me from my quarters and continued all the way up until I ran into him. He listened attentively the whole time. All of his consciousness was focused on me instead of the patrol duty he was supposed to be doing. Obviously he hadn't come out to actually keep a watch on citizens. The way he saw it, "patrol" was just a fancy word that meant "get out of the stuffy, depressing Fortress for a few hours.

It was times like those where I was really appreciative of my brother. He was a joker, but he could be serious as long as he kept his mouth shut. And I could always count on him for good advice.

When my story was finished, I shut my mouth and allowed him time to take it all in. He shifted his gaze away from my goggle-covered eyes and watched the street. We were leaning towards the late evening. There was an orange glow from the sky, contrasted with some green radiating off of the green sun that was present all day. Shadows were becoming more prominent, and it gave the Slums an eerie feeling.

"Well, I see how that would be problematic," he said eventually.

"I've been thinking about it all afternoon, and it still doesn't make sense," I said. "It all happened too fast for me to grasp anything. One moment, it was quiet. Then pandemonium, and then quiet again. It's almost as if someone tried to shove too much into thirty seconds."

"I know what you mean." He fell silent again.

"So, got any advice?" I prompted after the silence became too awkward.

"Don't sweat it," he said. I stared at him incredulously.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, not sure I heard right.

"I said don't worry about it. This sort of thing happens all the time."

I stepped in front of him and pushed him to a halt. "And when was the last time the KG arrested someone who quite literally _fell from the sky_?"

Lex laughed at me, but I didn't find it funny at all. It shocked me that he was still cool after what I had just told him. He was always the one that understood me, that lived by the same morals and rules as me. But I was suddenly beginning to doubt that too. How alone was I really in this world?

_Stop it_, I told myself. I was being ridiculous. Lex was allowed to have his own opinions. Something that seemed crucial to me could just be another distraction to him. And I was going to have to live with that. Besides, one disagreement didn't mean we weren't still the troublemaker-siblings we always were.

Lex looked at me strangely, and I realized I was playing with the ends of my hair. A telltale sign that something was bothering me. I needed to learn to hide my thoughts better…

"Look," he began. "I'm not going to say everything's cool, because obviously it's not. But you should know that the Baron is getting more and more paranoid with a possible war with the Metal Heads on the horizon. He'd do anything to keep in power, and if he thinks arresting that kid is going to help, then nothing is going to stop him. It's wrong, but just go with it for now."

"Okay," I said, but I wasn't yet entirely convinced.

Something on Lex's person beeped, and we both directed our eyes towards the source. I couldn't locate it, but it meant something to Lex, because he turned sharply and walked in the opposite direction. I looked at him questioningly.

"Communicator. Time to head back," he explained. I nodded. Then I thought of something.

"Hey, Lex, can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Shoot," he replied. I rolled my eyes, but as they were concealed by goggles, the action was reserved for me.

"Would you be mad at me if I didn't join the Krimzon Guard when I'm sixteen?"

He looked down at me. "Of course not. Hey, if you get out, then you'll have done what I couldn't!"

"Then quit now!" I practically shouted. But he just shook his head.

"It's too late for that now," he said, completely losing his up-tone kind of voice. I wanted to ask more, but there was one word that I knew would answer it for both of us: Erol.

We made idle chit-chat on the trek back, but once again, my mind was elsewhere. Of course I didn't doubt that Lex was being sincere when he explained his position, but I couldn't help but think that mine did not mirror it. Call me stubborn, but I was not going to be moved on this. If I wanted answers, I was going to have to find them myself.

And that was exactly what I decided to do.

* * *

I left my uniform on when I got back to my room. I was going to need it. But I did remember to tie up my hair and tuck it under my helmet. That would attract a bit less attention, and I needed to be inconspicuous where I was headed.

I set off down the hallway. I kept walking until I got to a closed off corridor. The restricted section. It was restricted to everyone but high ranked KG, as the name suggested, but the answers I needed were behind these bars. To ensure no one passed, it was blocked by an electric fence. I evaluated the lock, trying to find a way to bypass it, but my head snapped up when my ears detected footsteps. Regardless of whether they were coming from the restricted zone or the open hallway behind me, I needed to get out of sight. At my age, even being near the blocked area meant trouble. As quickly as possible, I slid behind a wall, hoping it would conceal me long enough.

The footsteps approached quickly. I determined that they were coming from behind the electric barrier, and that they would exit the restricted zone momentarily. A different, simpler plan formed in my head. When the Guard passed through, the beams of electricity shut off. As he moved down the hallway, I had just enough time to slip past the fence before it came alive with high-voltage sparks once again.

My steps became less sure. It was strange to me, being in the Fortress but not knowing where my feet would take me. I tried to memorize my path in case I had to make a speedy escape.

My ears were on high alert. Any indication of movement and my head snapped up, searching for the source. But it always proved to be nothing more than a Metal Bug or muffled speaking from another room.

I searched for a long time. I doubted I would be able to find my way back out, I had ventured so far. But it was pointless to give up when I was so close to my answers.

Eventually I became too tired, and I slumped down in a dark corner to rest. Luckily, there was a vent above me, and it was transmitting a conversation happening in another room. It sounded like at least two KG. They were arguing. Actually, complaining was more like it.

"I hate… stupid patrol, I can… too hard…"

"…know, those rebels… bring them… do what the Baron says."

I only caught bits and pieces, but it was enough to discourage me to join. Up until now, the KG had been more or less what was expected of me. I sure as heck didn't like it, and I couldn't stand the idea that it would become my life. But now, I was beginning to think that it was really wrong, not just boring. Not wanting to listen anymore, I forced myself to my feet and continued.

I had to sneak past several open doorways, but I remained unnoticed. They were filled with Guards, most of who were preoccupied with other things. I didn't bother to stick around. I continued my path, but with no idea where I was headed, I was becoming bored. I had come in with the goal of finding some answers and not stopping until I reached that goal, but I was beginning to give up again. It would be a hard walk back, since I knew nothing of the path I was following, but I was running out of options. I decided that I would continue for ten more minutes, and then head back.

I sneaked on down the dark corridor. Nothing interesting presented itself, not even a strange noise.

Then I heard the buzz of a machine, followed what I guessed a lightning strike might sound like. It came from down the hall. I nearly jumped with excitement, but contained it and proceeded towards the noise. I tried to move stealthily, but I needed to keep a good pace, too. As I turned a final corner, I saw an eerie purple light flashing from another room. As I approached it, I noticed that the room was barricaded by heavy iron bars. I crept the remaining distance as fast as I dared, and stopped right next to where the gate began. What I saw was shocking.

It was no doubt a prison room. The air was filled with a foul stench, one that I didn't care to identify. On my level I could see at least half-a-dozen prison cells, each illuminated by an unpleasant green light. However, there were at least fifty more stretching the length of a deep pit in the middle of the room. And rising up from the center of that was a large platform, with the machine that was no doubt creating the sounds I heard. It was a colossal piece of machinery. There was a large tank suspended from the ceiling, and protruding from the bottom were several pointed shards that looked like needles and various other things like metal arms and claws. Underneath it all was a chair.

And in that chair was a blond man. No, it was a kid. It was the kid they had arrested earlier!

As the scene unfolded, purple sparks of electricity began to shoot out of the machine, almost as if it had overloaded. No, it wasn't electricity. It was Eco. _Dark _Eco. The most dangerous and deadly substance known to man. Dark Eco destroyed everything it touched, but the sparks seemed less harmful. Combined with the frightening hum, the mechanism began to look more and more threatening. The tank lowered, and I thought the movement was happening on its own. Then, beside the whole device, I saw a control panel being worked by a short man with fiery orange hair in a Commander's uniform. And the sneer on his face was almost laughter.

I took off back down the hallway, not caring where I went, who saw me. Meanwhile, I shouted at Erol in my head, thinking of every insult I had ever used and more. I ran like there was no tomorrow, but I was still in earshot of the room when the screaming began.

I clamped my hands over my ears and bit my bottom lip to keep myself from screaming. I didn't care what was happening around me. I could only form one rational thought. The KG were evil. And Erol was the evil mastermind behind it all.

I ran until I was out of breath. My head spun and my lungs burned, but even then I found the strength to keep running. I tore through the corridors until I ended up next to the electric barrier again. My feet stopped just a split-second before I was sent flying into the beams. I had the sense to stay put, hidden by an open door until someone came along. The beams shut off momentarily, and I bolted off again. I didn't think about where I was going, only about where I wanted to end up.

I stopped by my quarters, but only briefly. I changed into regular clothes and threw my KG uniform to the ground, disgusted. I didn't think I needed a backpack, but it looked useful, so I grabbed one anyway. Into it I put my trainee Eco pistol, a pocketknife, a couple water bottles, and a few fruits I had smuggled out of the cafeteria in the event that I'd get hungry one night. As an afterthought, I grabbed the precious blue Eco stone Lex had given me two years ago and gently wrapped it in an extra sweater. Then I took off again.

The door patroller shouted at me as I jumped through the exit, but I ignored him and kept running. My pace had slowed considerably, but I sprinted nonetheless. I had an excellent sense of direction, and was in no danger of getting lost, so I let my subconscious mind be my guide.

I ran for an undetermined amount of time. But the whole time, not once did I look back.

Nothing in the world would ever make me go back there.

**

* * *

So, what did you think? Praise, flames, comments or concerns? Please click the button below and share your thoughts.**

**See you all next time!**

**~Fishyicon**


	4. Rocky Shelter

**A/N: Hello! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. Or maybe it hasn't been that long. I don't really know, I just know that it's been way too long since I've written anything. I mean, my writer's block was so bad, I couldn't write for this story, my new story I'm planning, any one-shots, or my original trilogy. This is just sad. But I'm back and better than ever, with increased vocabulary, people! This may get rough, so hold onto your seats.**

**Also, I can type faster! I got that whole paragraph down in about 30 seconds! YEAH!**

**Thank you to all the people that have read and/or review so far… you six know whom you are. This chapter goes out to LeiaOrganicSolo and EcoSeeker247. Thank you for helping me get over my writer's block. Of course, this whole story is still dedicated to my BFF, Anita. Love you, honey!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter". Naughty Dog does! Now, let's start with the actual story, shall we? Thank you if you've read this whole thing. I tend to get carried away sometimes…**

**Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

Part 1: Chapter 4: Rocky Shelter

In retrospect, I can definitely say that running away was not one of my best ideas ever. But I didn't have that many options. My whole world got turned upside down; right was wrong, left was right, good was evil.

One might recall that I had planned where I wanted to end up. Well, I knew I wanted to end up outside the Prison, but my thoughts didn't go much past that. I was running like there was no tomorrow, so the direction in which I was going was not as high on my list of priorities as I would have liked it to be. Please feel free to laugh at my intelligence and good planning. Or lack thereof.

When my feet finally began to tire out, I collapsed on the ground. Fortunately, I had somehow found my way to the Gardens, so the soft grass cushioned my fall. I lay there for an indeterminate amount of time, panting and fighting the blanket of unconsciousness that threatened to envelop me at any given point.

My eyes slid closed against my will, but I was deep enough in thought that falling asleep wasn't going to be an issue. I tried not to think about my "adventures" in the Prison earlier… or yesterday. What day was it? I hadn't been sure of which day of the week when I had started the day, but I wanted to know if an entire day had passed since Erol had come to fetch me to go on the "hunt and arrest" mission. I opened my eyes. The sky was dark, but there were a few rays of sun peaking over the horizon.

Or, at least I thought the sun was over the horizon. It was hard to tell when I was surrounded by twenty foot tall industrial shield walls on every side.

Upon further observation, I was positive that there were in fact light pink and coral streaks in the sky. The question was, did that mean it was morning or evening. Only time would tell.

I registered that my eyes were closed once again. With considerable effort, I forced them open. Then I heaved a sigh of exhaustion rather awkwardly from my lying position. I was tired, more tired than I could ever remember being before. I needed to sleep. That much was obvious.

I hauled my body into a standing position, feeling like I was twice my normal weight. Stretching my back, I began to look for somewhere suitable to sleep. By the looks of things, I was in the Southern Garden, the one that joined with the Port around the corner. I moved sluggishly along the dirt path, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. But it wasn't too long before I realized I wouldn't have the energy to make it all the way to the Port.

Sighing disappointedly at this minor setback, my clouded eyes scanned the perimeter once again. I pinpointed a large, concealing boulder a few meters off the path. I forced my blistered feet to carry me the short distance, but it felt like miles. My eyes glanced at my surroundings one last time, but since no one appeared to be watching, I lay back on the cool grass. The boulder offered generous camouflage, obscuring me from view of any passerby.

The ground was nice, comforting. I placed my backpack behind my head to use as a pillow. The night was cool, but I didn't want to grab my sweater yet. It would have been nicer to find a restaurant or something of the like in the Port, but that wasn't going to happen. My present accommodations were moderate at best, but I had barely had the strength to bring myself to it, let alone bring myself somewhere else.

I finally closed my eyelids on my own accord, happy to be safe for the time being. Once I was rested, everything else would heal itself on its own. I would eat the following day, find something to occupy my time, maybe even earn a bit of money. The day had been disastrous, but everything would be sorted out soon. I would be completely and utterly fine.

That was pretty good. I almost convinced myself.

The last thing I thought before falling asleep was that I had spent an unnatural amount of time on the ground that day…

* * *

"Hey, Miss, are you okay?"

I groaned and rubbed my eyes, not willing to sit up yet. Both suns shone very brightly, and the light they gave off had penetrated the thin barrier that was my eyelids. When the world finally came into perspective, I was a little shocked at what I saw.

A young woman, at least twenty years old, was standing over me, her shadow casting a bit of cover for my eyes. She had blond hair and blue eyes, the brightest I'd ever seen. She watched me with a concerned expression. It came to my attention that she had asked a question.

"Uh…" I replied. Smooth.

"I said, are you okay?" Her soft voice chimed like bells.

"Uh, yeah, I think," I said, and forced myself in to a sitting position. The girl crouched down next to me.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a "let's get right down to it" tone that was firm but gentle at the same time.

"Sleeping," I told her hazily, roughly rubbing my fists over my eyes. "What did it look like?"

She looked taken aback. I hoped I hadn't offended her, but it was her fault. She had woken me up, and I tended to be a little irritable in the early hours.

"Sorry," she said, "but I just saw you there and thought you needed some help."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine, as you can…" Something occurred to me. "Wait, what are _you_ doing here? I mean, you can't see me from the road." How had she found my safe little hiding spot? I wasn't visible from the road, so she must have been on her way over before she noticed me.

"Oh, well, I… uh… you see I was…" she stammered, and her face flushed. I hoped the smug look of satisfaction on my face wasn't too clear.

I opened my mouth to say something smart, but before I knew what was happening, I found myself shoved against the back of the boulder, the girl's hand closed over my mouth. I tried to scream, but she shushed me quickly, and for some reason I took her seriously. She moved with a speed and stealth that I didn't think was possible for someone like her to use. The top of her head peeped out of the side of the boulder, and she glanced around. Her hand remained over my mouth.

Suddenly, she moved again, pressing herself against the boulder beside me. I had to give her credit; she was good. Normally, I would have been thrashing and protesting against her, but something in her sharp eyes made me sit still and quietly. She turned away from me.

I heard voices behind us. I didn't recognize them, but there was still something familiar about the tone. I listened closely, applying my trained ears.

Unfortunately, the boulder proved to be very, very soundproof, and I couldn't make out any full sentences. But I recognized the tinny voice that came out of the headsets. It was a troop of Krimzon Guard. And the intent of their conversation was clear: something about a girl tampering with one of the electronic message boards.

Without alerting my neighbour, I shot my eyes over to her hands. They held some sort of battery pack, and she had a screwdriver tucked into her pocket.

My eyes widened, and I drew in a deep breath. Even as a Junior KG, I knew how much trouble she would get into for that. The girl next to me turned to her other side just then, and her eyes met mine. She was a smart girl, fully capable of putting two and two together. I opened my mouth under her hand, and prepared to rat her out. In that instant, we both stared at each other. My eyes shot daggers at her, hers were pleading.

That put me in a good position for negotiations. I pointed to the hand that was still clamped over my lips, and she reluctantly let it slide off my face and back into her lap, where it cradled the contraption in her lap. She watched as I glanced down at it again, then back up at her. I hoped she could read my mind. Or, at the very least, see what I was trying to tell her.

"Please don't," she said. It was barely a whisper, barely a sound at all.

"Why shouldn't I?" I whispered harshly. I used the threatening posture I had been taught in Guard training, although I was certain I wouldn't have the guts to give this girl to the KG. I was glad that I was able to keep up a good persona, unlike my usual "see right through me" self.

"I can help you," she replied, quiet as a breath.

"I don't need help."

"Whatever you need, really." She was practically begging.

I sighed. I couldn't hold up much longer against her pleading, crocadog eyes. "Fine."

She smiled, and her face lit up like both of the suns together.

We sat for a few minutes, waiting for the Guards to clear out. We were both on high alert, twitching at every sound or shuffle. Nonetheless, we remained completely inconspicuous. Rather inconveniently, the Guards had set up a temporary grouping place only a couple meters in front of our rock, and more and more kept arriving to give updates. It all sounded like mumbling to me, but I blamed the boulder.

Eventually, the Guards all signed off and went back to their normal patrols. The girl and I waited another five minutes before relaxing our rigid poses. We sighed with relief simultaneously.

"Thank you," she breathed. "Anything you want, you got it."

I thought about that momentarily. Anything I wanted? Well, I wanted Erol to be nice again, I wanted Lex to support me like he used to, I wanted that idiot Baron Praxis off the throne, I wanted the Metal Head monsters to all disappear and stop threatening our reasonably safe way of life, and I wanted my life to go back to normal. But I settled for something slightly more attainable.

"How about some food and a place to stay?" I didn't want to sleep in the grass again. Look where it had gotten me!

She smiled again. "Of course. I work at a bar in the Port. You can come there, I'll fix you a meal and I'll set you up with a cot in the back tonight."

I returned the smile. "Thanks." It seemed like I was getting more out of the deal than her, but I needed a place to stay for the time being while I sorted things out. And Erol had inadvertently taught me to always win at whatever costs. Looks like his pointless life lesson was actually turning out helpful.

We both stood up and stretched. Our heads would have peaked up over the boulder, but we took caution not to put ourselves right out in the open. My new friend took a step out from around the boulder, prepared to join in with the pedestrian traffic, but something dawned on me. I yanked her back by the arm that wasn't holding the battery pack.

"You can't go out there like that!" I practically shouted. She looked confused. "Your blond hair is way too noticeable. We'll need to disguise you. I mean, you were just being chased by a battalion of KG!"

She giggled, but frowned again just as quickly. She looked down, and I followed her gaze. Oh. She was wearing a pink tank top, jean shorts and boots covered with greaves of Precursor metal. She had nothing to disguise herself with.

I thought for a moment, and then had an idea. I reached into my backpack and pulled out the extra sweater I had stuffed into it. I shook it out roughly, and something caught my eye. Something blue and glowing tumbled onto the grass. My blue Eco crystal! I had forgotten about that. I handed the girl my sweater and reached down to grab the crystal. But when I looked back up, her eyes were fixed on my hands, her posture stiff. She looked shocked.

"What?" I asked, eyeing her curiously.

"That Eco crystal… where did you get it?" she asked, still mesmerized by it. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"You already owe me one favour… let's not push it," I said. She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and smiled at me.

"Sorry. You're right. Let's get even first, _and then_ we can start asking questions." She winked at me, and I jumped with a bit of a start. How did she know I had questions for her as well? I looked at her questioningly, but she just smiled and put a finger to her lips.

She swathed her beautiful blond hair in the sweater, and looked at me for approval. It looked ridiculous, but I tried to keep an impassive expression. I gave her a thumbs-up, and we stepped out onto the dirt road.

"I'm Shae, by the way," I told her, extending a hand in greeting.

She smiled and shook it. "Tess."

* * *

Tess walked with me back to the bar she had described. The Port was a large basin of foul, polluted water, surrounded by a few shops and, yes, bars. There were three exits; one led to the Industrial Zone, one led to a section of Main Town, and the third led to the Gardens. The bar Tess worked at, the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon, was placed between the exits to the Gardens and Main Town. Near the back of the Port, in the southernmost point of the city, were two large towers that connected electrical lines. Residents of Haven called them the Port Towers. We're a creative bunch.

The Hip Hog Heaven Saloon looked as inviting as a bar could from the outside, with a 3D neon sign that depicted a large hip hog, and below that was the name spelled out in the Precursor alphabet. However, it was not as pleasant inside. It was a cramped, musty place, with an old bar counter at the back and poorly lit booths lining the sides. There was what appeared to be a sort of boxing ring in the middle. And, of course, the entire place stank of alcohol.

I couldn't believe Tess expected me to sleep here. I was going to bolt back to my lovely boulder in the middle of the night.

However, the back room was actually somewhat nice. It was certainly small, dirty, and it stank of alcohol, but less so than the main room, and the all around feel was… cozy. My wonderful friend Tess pulled out a cot and a few blankets, setting them gently upon the makeshift bed. She smiled at me unexpectedly.

"I use this room sometimes, too," she explained. "You'll be just fine, but I may come and get some supplies at some point during the night. So don't say I didn't warn you."

Then we went back out into the main bar. Tess poured me a large glass of water, which I gulped down thirstily. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was. And once I thought about it, my stomach started growling. Tess poured me another glass and put some sort of meal in a contraption that looked strangely unlike a microwave. It served the same purpose, though, so I let my confusion slide.

Then, Tess had me explain what had happened. I told her the summarized version, downplaying many parts and excluding a few details altogether. I began from when I had gotten back from my little "errand" with Erol.

Oh, yeah, I also neglected to include my brothers' names and their positions. Not for them, but for me.

But Tess, smart cookie that she was, figured it out anyway. When I had finished my story, she was practically bursting with excitement.

"What?" I asked, and put another mouthful of stew through my lips.

"Your older brother… it's Erol!" she cried.

I looked around nervously, my head shooting from side to side. Fortunately, we were the only two in the bar, since it was late-afternoon. Apparently, it had indeed been early morning when I collapsed under the rock. I had run a good portion of the night. No wonder I was so tired.

I turned my head back to Tess. "How did you figure that out?" I asked.

"Oh, you look exactly the same. Your hair is the same colour, except yours is much longer, and your faces look the same." Oh, well, apart from that…

I realized I wasn't going to get far in this town if I looked exactly like Erol, the co-epitome of all evil.

"Tess," I began hesitantly, "could I ask you a favour?"

"No, we're all even now," she replied. I thought.

"What would it take?"

"Answer one of my questions," she decided.

"No way! I just told you my whole story – you owe me now!" I realized my voice was too loud again.

She giggled in the most girly way I'd ever seen anyone giggle. "No, you chose to do that. I get to pick this next question."

I frowned. Why had I suddenly spilled my life story to this girl I met not an hour ago? But there was no taking it back, and I trusted Tess.

"Fine." I surrendered. "What do you want to know?"

"Where did you get that blue Eco crystal?"

How was it that I knew that she would ask that question? Maybe the Precursors had enlightened me. And maybe Erol was the best brother anyone could ever hope for.

I thought back. I was careful not to relive all the emotions of that night so long ago, or I'd be sure to start crying. I only thought about Lex handing me the little box, explaining to me where it had come from.

"My brother Lex gave it to me," I said carefully. "He said he'd just found it lying around. Come to think of it, he said he found it near the Port. Maybe it was part of a bigger piece…?" I offered.

Tess nodded. She was visibly fighting to keep her expression collected. "Did he say where?" she prompted.

"I don't remember," I said, wracking my brain for any detail I may have left out. "Sorry."

"That's okay," she said smiling again. "Maybe we can look for it together!"

"Yeah," I agreed, but I knew the prospect of that happening was unlikely. "So, on to your part of the deal."

She looked at me, her eyes unreadable. I found it odd that someone who had as much difficulty as me trying to hide her emotions had such an expression in her arsenal. "What do you need?"

I took a deep breath. "I need to look different. Like, not at all like Erol. It's too dangerous. There may be… issues."

She smiled. It was an evil grin if I'd ever seen one. Well, except for Erol's. Once again, I asked myself how she could make her face give off such scary vibes.

"I can do that."

**

* * *

So, what did you think? Praise, flames, comments or concerns? Please click the button below and share your thoughts.**

**See you all next time!**

**~Fishyicon**


	5. Meeting Qualifications

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed or even just read my last part. Special thanks to "Unohoo" for reviewing with good advice! I love when people tell me what to look out for, things to include/remember, etc. Hint, hint… Also thanks to LeiaOrganicSolo, because she called Shae cool! You two rock! This chapter goes out to you.**

**I'd like to give credit here to my awesome beta, EcoSeeker247. Thank you infinitely for your hard work and kind comments!**

**Anyway, the first bit of this chapter gets a little slow, so feel free to skim it a little if you want. But you'll probably want to read what follows, as it contains actual information pertaining to the story.**

**Anita, love you! Hope you're having an awesome summer!**

**One more thing - Canadians spell things differently, so if something says it's spelled wrong, it might just be my way to spell it.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter". Naughty Dog does!**

* * *

Part 1: Chapter 5: Meeting Qualifications

"Okay, your turn," I said, taking a sip from the glass that Tess had set out in front of me. She'd said it was fruit juice, but it tasted a bit too unique for my taste. I made a sour face and pushed it away from me.

"My turn for what?" Tess asked, frowning both at my statement and my rejection of the drink. "It's just Jova juice, by the way."

"No, it isn't," I said, eyebrows raised suspiciously. I had tasted Jova juice and just plain Jova fruit many times, and this was not even close to it. "And it's your turn to answer one of my questions."

"I thought we were all even now!"

I sighed. "Tess, I think we can drop the whole 'getting even' thing now."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, but giggled too. I had learned that Tess was a pretty easy going person, and that if she smiled or laughed, you were forgiven.

"Okay, we're just two friends chatting; no more favours owed. Are you happy now?" she asked.

"Ecstatic," I replied, "Now, your question." I lowered my voice and leaned in from my position on the bar stool. Tess, who was standing on the other side of the counter, mirrored me. Our heads were only a few inches apart.

"What were you doing with that battery from the message board earlier?" I asked, quiet enough that none of the other patrons would hear. We were moving into the night hours, and the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon was filling up fast. Thankfully, it didn't look like it would be a very busy night. Still, there was a near constant flow of customers coming up and ordering drinks. Very altruistically, Tess was letting her brunette partner Amber tend the bar, while she chatted up a storm with me. By the way Amber took it without a complaint, I got the feeling that Tess shirking her responsibilities was not atypical.

"How do you know that's what it was?" Tess challenged.

"Because I heard that the Guards were looking for someone who had tampered with one of the electronic message boards. You were holding a contraption, and you were hiding from them. Don't tell me I drew the wrong conclusions," I finished.

She stared at me intently, as if deciding whether to trust me. I met her gaze.

She sighed. "It was a data block, not a battery," she said eventually.

"What does that do?" I asked, intrigued now. I knew all this information unintended for me was going to come back and bite me in the butt, but I needed to know. "I mean, why did you have it?"

"Listen, I trust you, Shae, but you have to swear not to tell anyone. I've never told anyone else before," she said very uncharacteristically, "You have no idea how secret this information is."

"You don't have to tell me, Tess," I reassured her, but we both noticed how my body language was screaming, "Tell me, tell me!"

She took a deep breath, and very quietly, began her story.

"I work for a secret organization trying to put the city back in order." She spoke quietly and urgently, glancing around at irregular intervals, assuring herself that no one was eavesdropping. Her deep sky blue eyes were sharp and cold, as well as her voice. "Put the city back in order here meaning 'get Praxis off the throne'. It's called the Underground, and it's co-headed by an old friend of mine. He sent me on a mission: to replace the content of the one of the message boards in Main Town. I'm good with tools, but the KG caught me before I could replace the block." She paused, seeing if I was keeping up. I was, but I had a question.

"So the data block you had was the one you needed to replace?" I asked. She nodded. "What did it say?"

"It was supposed to bring favour and new recruits to the Underground, and reveal some of the bad stuff the Baron is doing. I don't know exactly."

"What sort of bad stuff?" I asked. I was full of questions.

"You mean you don't know?" she asked, raising her voice loud enough that a few people glanced up from their drinks and over to us. Tess waved them off, and they returned to their conversations.

"Word is that the Baron is cooperating with the Metal Heads. I don't know much else."

"What do you mean, 'cooperating' with them?" I asked.

"I said I don't know. But I do know that there's something going on here, and the Baron is more than just a bad ruler. He's all-around bad." She paused. "That's all I can tell you."

I nodded. I had half a mind to tell her what I had found out about Erol in the Prison, but decided to keep quiet for the time being.

"Shae?" Tess asked, pulling me out of my train of thought. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No, thanks. I think I'll just crash." I stood up and began to trudge over to the door that led to the back room, my footsteps as heavy and heedless as the previous night. I stopped with my hands on the door.

"Hey, Tess?" She turned her attention from where the customer who had filled my seat. "Thanks. And don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

She smiled. "See you in the morning."

I pushed through the door and seated myself heavily on the cot. I began to untie my boots. Once they were off, I looked up to face a small mirror. I studied my reflection, and for the second time that night, I was shocked by my appearance.

Tess had cut my hair, and it was now cropped short. It stuck out in spiky tufts, like it did even when it was long. However, she had left a thick piece to act as bangs hang in front of the left side of my face. It looked very cool, and even though it was short like Lex's and Erol's, it was unique enough that I looked like I was a cousin instead of a sibling. Plus, half of my features were concealed, so the left side didn't appear equivalent to the right, and my particular facial structure looked less questionable.

Tess was a certified genius in my book.

Smiling at my disguise, I flipped off the light and tucked into bed. If you ignored the smell of alcohol, it was one of the nicest places I could think to sleep.

As much as I wanted some alone time to think things over, the moment my head touched the pillow, I was out like a light.

* * *

The bass music from the bar played all night, and it was rather aggravating to have to listen to it. Whenever Tess came in, I lay still and made my breaths more deep and regular, but needless to say, I didn't get much sleep that night. The dark, distinct circles under my eyes were my most prominent feature at first glance in the mirror. I groaned and gaited sluggishly out to the main room.

Tess and Amber were cleaning the room, each doing her own work; Tess was wiping the back counter with a wet rag, and Amber was sweeping the floor with the help of an old broom. I remembered when I had one like that at my old house…

I shook my head and suppressed all those pleasant yet vexatious memories. There would be time to let my mind wander when I was alone.

Tess looked up and smiled at me. She was so cheerful. "Good morning!" she greeted animatedly. Actually, animated was probably the perfect word to describe her. All of her receptions and just her all around attitude were much exaggerated. It was reassuring to find someone like that in a world where nearly everyone was cheerless, serious, unimpressionable.

I returned the smile and the greeting. Then, after gathering a dusty tray from behind the counter, I went around and collected all the glasses and mugs. With the three of us working collectively, the task of neatening the dirty room was completed in record time. We made idle chitchat while toiling around, and I couldn't help but notice how nice it felt to be just… a girl. A fourteen-year-old girl enjoying herself with a couple of other girlfriends. As opposed to a fourteen-year-old Junior KG training with a couple of others in the same horrible predicament.

I sighed. It felt nice.

But I knew it wouldn't last; a hiatus like that could never last.

Later, we sat up at the counter, each of us in what had become our respective stools. Amber was telling us about her plans to get out of the work circuit, maybe join a racing team in Kras City. I admired her determination to live her own life, not the life she had been forced to live.

_Just like you,_ said the little voice in my head. _Yeah, _I thought, _just like me._

"What time is it?" Tess asked casually. Amber turned around to look at the neon clock set on the wall above the door.

"Eleven o'clock," she replied, and went back to her story. I was entranced by her life and dreams, but Tess snapped out of her tranquil mood. She did a double-take on the clock and suddenly had me on my feet.

"Tess, what are you doing?" I asked a split-second too late, for she had already torn into the back room. She was out just as rapidly, helping the small backpack onto my shoulders.

"Tess, seriously, what's happening?" I repeated, suddenly on high alert, my eyes and ears sharp and aware of everything around me, every bystander in the room, every detail and colour flashing around me.

"It's eleven o'clock!" she cried, which told me nothing. She was trying to push me towards the exit, but I planted my boots firmly on the floor, assuming a stable defence stance. By this time, Amber was on her feet, cautiously making her way around the bar, as if she thought Tess might reach out and strike her at any moment.

Once her grip relaxed, I whirled on her and tried to glare at her in a way that would prompt her to tell me what was so important (_try_ being the operative word there). However, she was a bit taller than me, and of course, she merely countered with her icy stare.

We were locked in place, neither of us giving the other any leeway. Amber came up beside us. Apparently she had squelched her immediate fear of Tess.

"Okay, what's going on you two?" she asked firmly, her green eyes shooting between us. We both loosened up a bit.

It was Tess's turn to whirl on Amber now. "Eleven o'clock, in the morning, Am!" she shouted again, her logic only apparent to herself. "On a Saturday! You know what happens, right?"

Amber's eyes widened. I thought I heard her mumble something along the lines of "oh," but her voice was fairly unintelligible.

"Okay, seriously, what is going on, you two?" I shouted, my impatience and anger getting the better of me. It might have been more effective to try to calm them down and politely press on until I had a suitable answer. But I knew my limits, and I knew that I couldn't put on such an act. I had no experience lying whatsoever. Then again, my face had always been hidden by a mask or goggles when it had counted.

"Look, Shae, you need to go," Amber said tersely.

"I understand that," I said, "What I don't understand is, why do I need to go?"

"The boss is coming in, and he doesn't like houseguests." Tess said. Her eyes were focused on me so intensely that one would think she was trying to will me out the door. It wasn't working.

I looked at her, at both of them, my expression somewhere between aghast and disbelieving. "That's what this fuss is about? You don't want your boss to see me, because he might get mad?"

"Seriously, you don't want to mess with Krew," Amber said, her eyes actually… worrisome?

"Obviously, you don't know me well enough. I don't care if some authority figure gets mad at me. I've grown up in the Krimzon Guard, and let me tell you, I'm the worst recruit they've ever seen. Disobeying the law is something of a passion of mine."

"I understand that, but Krew is ten times worse than anything or anyone you've faced before," Amber said. I gave her a look that told her to drop it.

"Am, why don't you go pack some food for Shae?" Tess suggested, and Amber (shockingly) complied, backing towards the counter I was now so familiar with.

"Shae, I don't actually work for Krew," Tess told me, completely off-subject, "I'm here as a spy for the Underground. Am and I aren't joking when we say you need to go, but I'm not going to just leave you like that." Something inside me lit up. I felt touched that this girl, Tess, whom I had met just over twenty-four hours ago, would go through all the trouble just to help me.

"Thanks," I said shyly, my head cringing away slightly to support my tone.

Tess smiled and pressed on. "Go to the Slums. The Underground operates in a dead-end alley in the near the northeast wall. You know the lower corner that got formed after the attack on Dead Town?" I gingerly nodded my head. I remembered that night vividly. "That's where it is. You'll know it when you see it."

"Okay," I said, "but how does this relate to me?"

Tess smiled in that sly way she had. "I want you to join." My eyes grew to the size of a Jova fruit, and I was surprised Amber didn't look over in alarm.

Tess giggled at my reaction, but quickly collected herself. "Seriously, you'd be great. I'm sure the leader, the Shadow, would love someone as quick and cunning as you. Torn might be harder to convince, but tell him I sent you." _Torn. Why does that __name sound familiar__? _"Don't tell him what you can do, _show_ him. And don't take no for an answer."

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but Amber came over and placed the assortment of food into my backpack. She smiled and gave me a quick farewell hug. It felt odd, having someone so physically close to me. The only person I had hugged in the last year was Lex, and even that had only been once or twice. Like the time he had gotten completely beat up in hand-to-hand combat training, and they had dismissed him at the infirmary, saying the injuries would "heal with time". Or the time I had gotten in trouble for talking back to an officer, and Erol had shown up to lecture me, in that "special" way he had. Both of those wounds had left lasting scars.

Next, Tess gave me a hug, much warmer and more comforting than Amber's. I didn't know what to do to return the gesture, so I just kept my arms awkwardly around her middle.

"Good luck," she whispered in my ear, and I could almost feel the smile. I could picture the way her eyes lit up, the way her face brightened, the way the corners of her mouth turned up in a glowing, symmetrical grin.

We all waved goodbye, and I stepped through the automatic door, onto the bare streets of Haven City's Port. There were those automatic message boards distributed along the sides of the streets. The occasional Zoomer flew over my head. Everything seemed normal.

Then a squad of patrol KG marched by, and I reflexively stepped back, trying to dissipate into the shadows. It didn't work as adequately as I'd have liked, but they guards ignored me all the same. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding, and gradually began the long trek to the Slums.

Just like that, my peaceful respite was effectively over.

* * *

I stood there, in the dead-end alley near the Shield Wall in the Slums, and observed what was right in front of me: a wall. A big, concrete wall with an odd symbol hastily painted on in with poison green. I had to be missing something obvious, but it was merely a wall. No more, no less.

I knocked on the surrounding doors for good measure, but to no avail. I was smart enough to know that the wall was indeed the key, what Tess had been talking about. But I was not smart enough to see what she had meant for me to do once I got past this point.

I crossed to the opposite side of the alley and sat down, feeling strangely defeated. I had come all this way for nothing. By the looks of things, the streets would be my home tonight. My head leaned against the wall and I pulled my legs in, wrapping my arms around them to keep warm. It had taken me over an hour to walk from the Port to the Slums, and there had been light rain as I passed through the Industrial Area. So, I sat there huddled up and pathetic, feeling cold, wet, and miserable.

I closed my eyes and hunched my head as the sky began to drip cold, acid rain again. Thankfully, the roof of the house at my back protruded a bit, so it offered modest shelter.

There were many places to hide out and find shelter in Haven City, but I was too discouraged to find any of them. So I sat there, wet and crestfallen, and thought.

I thought about the people I knew. Tess, who was so selfless and helpful, who brightened my day and forced the sun to shine with her menacing glare. Amber, who was friendly and ambitious. Erol, who was so cruel and evil there were no words to describe it. Every time I thought about him it made my blood run cold. And Lex, my brother I knew so well and missed so much, the only element that guaranteed I regretted running off like that. I decided that if I was still alive in a week I would go look for him and give him a proper goodbye.

I thought about Haven City, and the Baron. I knew it was him who had turned Erol from the brother I loved to the core of all evil, and he was going to pay for doing that to my brother, to me. The Baron was the one that ensured that innocent people had to live in poverty, in these dead-end alleys with burning garbage cans and cramped, inadequate living spaces. The Baron was the one that had created the Krimzon Guard to "serve and protect" the city. Even though all he was doing was bringing on his own destruction.

I smiled in spite of myself. The Baron had it coming for him.

Then I thought about that blond kid, Jak. He was a mystery. All I knew was that he had fallen from the sky, his best friend was a rat, and he was being wrongfully imprisoned and experimented upon. _What has the world come to, _I wondered, _when those are the only things you know about someone?_

Then I thought of the answer: it meant the world had come to war. And in war, you had to pick a side. The choice was simple. It was either the KG or the Underground.

But how could I choose when I had a reason to fight for both, and a reason to fight against both at the same time? The KG was wrong and unfair, and its members were inadvertently destroying the city, piece by piece. But I had heard storied of the Underground rebels killing innocent people just to accomplish its goals of undermining the KG. Neither was good, but which was the worst? Which was the best? I needed to decide, and decide fast…

A strange sound coming from behind the wall with the Underground symbol startled me out of my reflection. The sound barely reached me over the drumming of the rain on the stone ground, but I heard it nonetheless: footsteps.

I didn't have time to react before the used-to-be secure wall slid open with a nasty grinding sound. Behind it was a low passageway. I reckoned it led to the Hideout. Out stepped a man with auburn hair tied back in dreadlocks and odd grey pattern tattooed on his face. I immediately attributed it to be the same one Guards sported. He also had two Eco pistols tucked into his belt, and a long knife sheathed on his back. He was unnaturally tall, and looked down at me with icy blue eyes.

To sum up his entire appearance, he scared me. A lot.

"Scram, kid," he said in an abnormally rough, scratchy voice. _What does he do, gargle with nails?_ I thought. Despite my overwhelming desire to do precisely what he'd asked, I stood up and did my best Guard impression, trying to look intimidating as I'd been taught.

He smirked. "Cute."

"Are you, um, the Shadow?" I asked hesitantly. He cocked his head and looked at me strangely, as if he was trying to decide whether I was serious.

"No," he said convincingly.

"Go away, kid," he ordered, and turned back into the small corridor. He had to duck his head to avoid smashing it against the ceiling.

Once again, I suppressed my fear as I took two heavy steps towards him. He heard me and turned back.

"Are you Torn, then?" I asked, my voice sounding much more courageous than I felt. When had I developed the ability to lie like that?

He eyed me suspiciously. "Who are you, kid? And what the hell are you doing here?"

"My name is Shae," I replied, "And I'm here to join the Underground."

He gave a half smile, but it was still extremely cold and disapproving. I heard a low chuckle under his breath. "Funny."

"No, really," I persisted. Tess had told me not to take no for an answer. Then I thought of something. "Tess sent me."

He quit his sad excuse for laughing and stared at me. "Is that so?" he asked coldly. Every survival instinct I had was telling me to run right away, but still I held my ground.

"Yes. In fact, she recommended me."

"We ain't running a babysitting service here, kid. Now run away while you still can," he said. His tone sent chills through my spine. I actually shivered.

What had Tess told me? _Show him what you can do._ I thought. What could I do? I could fight well enough. I held a decent gun, but my aim was questionable at best.

Making a split decision, I mustered all the strength I could and gave Torn a solid uppercut, right to the lower jaw. He stumbled back a bit, and his face was shocked. I grinned wickedly at him, feeling relatively proud of myself.

Before I could blink, I was met with a swift roundhouse kick to the chest. The force of the strike literally sent me flying into the adjacent wall. My head was bashed against the stone wall, and pain erupted at the back of my skull. I fingered it gently, but there was no blood. Just a bruise that would be the size of my fist in an hour. That one kick had banged me up quite a bit, not to mention that I was still gasping for breath. I wondered if the kick had cracked one of my ribs.

I stood up slowly, and faced Torn with an angry glare. He returned it, but infinitely more intimidating.

"Apparently you have a death wish," he said, cocking his head as he strode towards me. He didn't seem to have suffered any side effects from my attack. "I can help you with that, but I think Tess would get mad. So I'm going to tell you one more time: Walk. Away."

I weighed my options. On one hand, I could go back to Tess and tell her what had happened. But I needed to show Torn that I was strong and independent. I straightened up and said, "No." Then I braced myself to evade another hit.

But he said nothing, and just continued to glare his icy glare. Slightly encouraged by that, I pressed on. "I can fight, shoot and run. I'm extremely smart and cunning, and," I hesitated before saying the next part. "I have connections with the KG."

"We don't need connections. We have plenty of spies."

I took a deep breath. I couldn't take no for an answer, and this was the only way Torn would even give me a chance. "I have a direct connection with Erol," I said, enjoying it when his eyes widened.

"What direct connection?" he asked neutrally. But I knew he was dying of curiosity.

"Erol is… my brother," I said finally.

"And you could get information from him?" he asked, calling my bluff. I had run away from home, but with good planning and possibly some help, I was certain I could get him some valuable knowledge.

"Yes."

"You're not in," he said, and my heart fell. Had I just revealed my secret for nothing?

"But," he continued, "We might be able to use you. As long as you have some good skills."

I was jumping for joy inside, but desperately tried to collect my expression. "What kind of skills?" I asked in a reasonably controlled voice.

"Shoot that," he instructed, indicating a miniscule painted symbol on the wall at the back of the alley. My chest fell. My shooting was only moderate; how was I going to hit that?

He handed me one of his Eco pistols, and I took aim, exercising great caution to be precise. I held my arm out straight, gripped the gun tightly, pulled the trigger, and…

Missed. I missed the target by several inches. The world had still been spinning from my head wound when I had taken aim, so I appointed my weakness to that. Torn frowned at me, unimpressed. I smiled shyly, and returned the gun to him.

"Well, you can't shoot, but a bad shot is better than no shot at all. And I know that you have 'trained skills' in melee…." He trailed off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I blushed slightly. "What _can_ you do?"

Once again, I scrolled through my arsenal. Not fighting, not shooting, certainly not acting…

Then it dawned on me. "I can race."

"That doesn't help us," he snarled. "You'd do better at the stadium."

"But I can run errands, avoid guards, and make quick getaways. I can even be an escort!" I said.

Suddenly, Torn smiled evilly. I cringed again. "Then prove it," he said. "Compete in the upcoming Class 3 NYFE race."

"I'm not old enough!" I shouted. You had to be sixteen to compete in any official tournament.

"You're not old enough to join the Underground, either," he reminded me. "But prove you act older than you look, and maybe we'll talk. Place first, or you're as useless as you look, and you can run home to Erol."

That did it. "You can bet on it. See you in the winner's circle," I said, and intentionally tossed my bangs out of my eyes as I spun my head around. However, the action made my injury pulse painfully. As soon as I was out of eye and earshot, a groan escaped my lips and I clenched my head with my hand.

The rain continued to pour. As I walked through the crooked streets, wincing in pain, I tried to think of a way to somehow get into the NYFE race. And even if I won, how would I accept the trophy? Everyone would see my face, and I would be disqualified for entering illegally. And then, I would face horrible consequences that I didn't even want to think about…

Just then, I looked up and my eyes focused in on a house. It took me a minute, but with a flash, I recognized it.

My old house. The one I had lived in before Erol had gotten promoted, before I had joined the Guard, before Erol had become evil, before I had learned about the Underground, and before my world had been turned upside down.

Despite every command I was shouting in my head, tears began to well up in my eyes and my throat closed up. I didn't have time to crawl into a dark corner before I was letting out all the tears that had been held in for days.

A perfect end to my perfect afternoon.

* * *

**I know most of you caught the whole "gargles with nails" thing. My only defence is I had to. I couldn't help myself.**

**So, what did you think? Praise, flames, comments or concerns? Please click the button below and share your thoughts.**

**See you all next time!**

**~Fishyicon**


	6. Flashes of the Past

**A/N: I would like to quickly send out a huge thank you to each and every reader, reviewer or not. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, especially the race scene. Though I have written many stories, I have not once written any action. So this is my first try. Please feel inclined to tell me what you think! I would love to hear your opinions, and I am open to any type of advice, no matter how broad or concise. Reviews make me happy, but advice makes me ecstatic!**

**Once again, enormous chunks have been pushed back to later chapters. The reason being, this chapter was too big and the next one too small. So it seemed like a good idea.**

**Huge thanks once again to my awesome beta-reader, EcoSeeker247. Drop her a thank you if you find the time!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter". Naughty Dog does!**

**

* * *

**

Part 1: Chapter 6: Flashes of the Past

_One week later…_

"Come on, Amelle, this way!" I shouted, gesturing for my friend to follow. Giggling, she complied, trotting merrily over to my hiding spot. We both crouched down in the trench and closed our mouths, but one look at Amelle confirmed that she was still laughing. I couldn't resist doing the same.

"Do you think he'll find us here?" Amelle asked two minutes in. Her voice was a little too loud for my comfort, so I held up an index finger to silence her. My eyes widened in warning, but we exchanged one look and we were both giggling again.

"No, I don't think he'll find us," I said.

"Don't think who will find you?" asked another voice from above us. Amelle and I both looked up and screamed simultaneously.

"Gotcha!" Lex cried, and reached into the crevasse to grab us. We both scrambled out and took off in opposite directions, and Lex ended up clawing at thin air. I looked back at Amelle, and saw she was fleeing back towards the house. And Lex was…

"Ha ha!" my ten-year-old brother shouted, tackling me to the ground. I struggled under his weight, but he was much bigger than me. Screaming was also futile, as he had his arm around my mouth. "You're It!"

"No!" I shouted, and bit down hard on the arm that was muffling my words. He yelped and pulled away, giving me just enough time to climb to my feet and run off again.

"Hey, no fair!" Lex yelled from behind me. I looked back at his pouting expression and laughed as my feet continued to carry me away. But suddenly, I hit a roadblock, and hit it with such force that the contact knocked me to the ground.

"Ouch," I mumbled, before looking up at the obstacle. Erol stood, looming over me, with one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

"Having fun?" he asked.

All the fun tension seemed to dissolve suddenly. I put on my best six-year-old grin and shouted, "Yeah!" Erol laughed.

"I'm not," said Lex, coming up behind me. "She's not playing fair. And she bit me!" he said, holding up his arm to support this claim.

"Ah! He's It! Hide me!" I screamed, and hid behind Erol, who continued to laugh.

"So, good fun was had all around," he said, and gently shifted me back around him. "Shae, what do you say to Lex?"

"Sorry," I mumbled, still not meeting his eyes. "But you hurt me, too!"

"No, I didn't!"

I stuck out my tongue in response.

"Where are Amelle and Ty?" Erol asked. I shrugged, while Lex told him that they were still hiding.

"Okay, go find them and tell them it's time to go home, then you two get back too," Erol said finally.

Lex and I nodded and set off to search for our missing friends, calling their names all the while. Ty we found hiding behind one of the new message boards and Amelle had found her way into a different crevasse in the ground. Smiling and giggling, we all headed back to our respective houses in the Slums.

Suddenly, a deep, rumbling noise was torn from the sky. We all looked up in alarm. The clouds pulled apart, and out shot a streaming comet of Dark Eco. The substance hit the ground with a loud BANG, causing quite a commotion.

Two figures stepped out; one was a blond teenager, and the other a little orange rat. They both proceeded towards us. I looked over at my three companions, only to find they had all disappeared.

"Lex! Amelle! Ty!" I called, but to no avail. Then when I looked back, there was only me, and the blond kid. His entire body began to shake, and bolts of Dark Eco shot out of him. He continued towards me, growling, teeth bared, eyes narrowed to sinister slits.

Then, beside the monstrous boy, I spotted Erol, much older suddenly, cackling with laughter. And just that sound was enough to make my blood run cold. In fact, I had the actual feeling that icy water was running through my veins.

The last thing I saw was the silhouette of the now-murderous-looking blond kid, bearing down on me.

* * *

I woke with a start, sitting up straight and subsequently bashing my forehead on the radiator I had chosen to sleep under. The sky was still dark, save several multicoloured streaks than ran across it. As early as it was, though, I knew trying to get more sleep would be futile. Rubbing my temples tenderly, I decided that it was a good a time as any to do a systems check. I cautiously rose to my feet and gave myself the once-over.

Heels? Blistered. Ribs? Definitely bruised, possibly cracked. Shoulder? Still slightly sore, but recovering quickly. Forehead? Ouch. Back of head? Throbbing and tender; large bump effectively formed.

But aside from these minor "speed bumps", I was doing well.

Through the throbbing pain in my head, I managed to reconstruct parts of my dream. But since I was barely able to remember why I'd made the executive decision to sleep on a roof, my thoughts didn't want to produce any vivid animations.

Moving sluggishly, I replaced my sweater in my backpack and exchanged it for a fruit of some sort. I ate it right down to the core, not leaving even a scrap behind. My stomach still growled, even more demanding than before its generous snack. As weak-willed as I was, I forced myself to ignore the discomfort and settled for a deep swig of water. That, of course, did nothing but refresh my stomach's pleas, making it excruciatingly painful to continue. But I was running precariously low on provisions, and didn't want to waste any.

Besides; when I had been poor (and oddly happy) and lived in the Slums, there had never been enough to eat. I would adapt to minimal food consumption quickly.

I replaced the water container inside the pack, my hand rubbing against something sharp. I closed my hands around the new item and pulled it out of the backpack. It turned out to be nothing more than my Blue Eco rock. Smiling half-heartedly, I clenched it tight between my fingers. Suddenly, I felt immensely better, less hungry and much more energized. Whether the pleasant feeling was an effect of the Blue Eco or something much deeper, I didn't care. I only wanted it to remain there, completely encompassing me with warmth.

I reluctantly let go of the stone, smiling when the feeling lingered even once I was not holding the Eco in my hands. Encouraged, I stepped over to the ledge and hopped off the roof. A few well-placed steps and nimble jumps put me lightly back on the ground, reasonably well-concealed from curious eyes.

I walked down the street, feeling oddly buoyant. Still the comforting sensation filled me, and it made my thoughts less clouded and certainly less depressing. I was able to focus on the upcoming day without feeling complete discouragement.

_First things first,_ I told myself. _Prioritize. _(1) Find and join a race team that had a NYFE racer ready for the Class 3 race this afternoon; (2) Somehow convince the leader of that race team that I was sixteen, so they could admit me into the competition; (3) Win said race; (4) Accept trophy, once again without raising suspicions due to my age; (5) Hope Torn was impressed by my skills and join the Underground!

I had a lot to do, but hopefully with this newfound energy, I could handle it.

And then, just as I turned the corner, I saw a familiar streak of brown hair, and knew that I was that much closer to completing goal number one.

"Amber," I called, hoping that I hadn't mistaken her. Fortunately, the brunette turned her head, smiling as her bright green eyes landed on me. As she gestured me over, I ran scenarios through my head, trying to think of a plan that would get her to tell me what I needed without giving anything away.

And then I thought of it.

"Hey, Shae," she greeted, "How've you been?"

"Good," I said. My plan involved sliding from casual small talk to more serious subjects delicately enough that I wouldn't raise too much suspicion. "How about you?"

"I've been fine, just bored. Good thing the race's this afternoon."

"Are you going to watch it?" I asked. Amber was unintentionally going along with my plan perfectly.

"Actually, I have my own race team. That's why I want to go to Kras one day."

Kras City was one of the only other civilisations that had survived the three-hundred year Metal Head war, along with Haven City. It was situated across the ocean, too far for a Hellcat hover-cruiser to go on one tank of Eco fuel. Haven dwellers commonly referred to it as the city of Combat Racing. As it stood, Combat Racing was still a new sport, but I was willing to bet that it would eventually become one of the biggest things on our poor little planet.

"I remember. So, your own team, you say?" I asked, hoping that I wasn't acting so indifferent that it was actually _too_ obvious.

"Yeah. My racers aren't that good, though. I've been searching every nook and cranny of this city for a year, trying to find someone that could actually place in the top three."

I laughed. "Wow, that bad, huh?" She nodded, smiling half-heartedly.

It was then the time to put my master plan into action. "You know, I can race pretty well. I used to compete with my siblings all the time." In fact, Erol was the city's undisputable NYFE champion. If I had learned anything from him, it was how to race.

"Well, maybe someday you can join my team," she said.

"I could race today, if you'd like."

She laughed. "Right. How old are you?"

"Sixteen," I answered smoothly. Her smile quickly faded and she looked at me disbelievingly. "That's old enough, right?"

"Sixteen, huh?" she inquired, cocking an eyebrow, "You sticking with that?"

I nodded, trying to look fierce.

She sighed, and began speaking harshly. "Meet me in garage number four at eleven o'clock this morning. Bring good racing gear." I didn't bother to tell her that I didn't have any "racing outfits," save the one I was wearing. "I'll get the NYFE ready. Just be there, and be ready to race."

She walked off pointedly, not looking back. I stood there dumbfounded for a minute, trying to decipher the meaning of her words. _Meet me at the garage._ That sounded good, but could possibly be a trick. _At eleven o'clock. _That was before the race, which reinforced the last instruction. _Bring racing gear. _That was what did it for me.

I quite literally jumped for joy, letting out a cry of "Yes!" into the air. Several citizens stopped to look at me, so I suppressed my overwhelming happiness for the time being. Still giggling inside, I began trotting down the road, earning confused stares from many townspeople.

After stopping by the north bazaar and expertly stealing a Jova fruit and some sort of bread, I decided to head out to the forest. It was a long walk, but much quicker if one ran. And since I was a fast runner, I was able to virtually cut the time in half. Upon arriving in the forest, I installed myself on a low cliff beside a waterfall. I lay on my back and closed my eyes, completely at ease.

Haven Forest was outside the city shield wall, but there was an airlock one had to pass through, followed by a rift ring and a levitating Precursor platform. But it was worth the trip. The Forest was built on a hilly terrain, abundant with grass, flowers and butterflies. Yes, butterflies. It was really the only "haven" in Haven City.

Haven City. It was ironic that you had to leave the city to find actual haven. The name was a lie in itself. The threat of a Metal Head invasion hung over us day by day like a guillotine, just waiting for that odd shift in the wind to throw it off. If the Metal Heads ever did invade, we would all be effectively screwed.

Then it struck me: why were the Guards so preoccupied with supervising the citizens when the Metal Heads were much more pressing? Shouldn't the KG be trying to hold the Metal Heads instead of putting offenders in prison? I'd heard rumours of advancement on the Metal Head front; packs were slowly becoming braver and braver, trying to penetrate the Shield Walls. The pumping station and the remains of the old Shore Slums – now dubbed Dead Town – were off limits because of the Metal Heads' growing relentlessness.

Just more proof that I had made the right choice to quit. The KG was useless, and it wouldn't surprise me if the Baron was actually undermining the whole thing.

More and more troubled thoughts began to invade my relaxation, so I quickly sat up and shook my head, as if I could shake the bad visions out of my head. I didn't, though.

The sun was beating down on my, even through the holey cover of trees. The pool at the bottom of the waterfall looked so tempting, and there was nothing to stop me from lightly jumping off the cliff and falling into the refreshing water, clothes and all. They needed a wash as much as I did.

I waded in the waves for a while, enjoying every relaxing second. Once I began to shiver, I climbed onto the green shore and dozed off for a bit while my body and clothes dried in the sun.

I was roused a couple hours later; ten o'clock by the light being emitted by the sky. I took the opportunity to refill my water bottle with the cool, fresh water from the stream. Rehydrated and rejuvenated, I proceeded back towards the city.

I arrived at garage four ten minutes early, but Amber was already there waiting for me. I knocked lightly on the large, steel doors, and she turned to face me. Her arms were crossed and her face was stone hard.

"I'm still not okay with this," she said.

"I know," I acknowledged, and walked towards the NYFE set up on the work bench. She followed me, put a block of wood at the bottom of the elevated platform and helped me onto the racer.

The NYFE was like the one-seat Zoomers in the city, but much more suitable for racing, with a sleek and light-weight design. The driver sits behind the engine and holds on to the steering wheel, feet on the accelerator pedals. There was a long, armoured knife on the front for "cutting" through the track. The tail also sported a knife, but more for steering than aerodynamics. I installed myself comfortably on the timeworn seat and placed my hands and feet on their respective holds.

It felt great. And this was before even getting on the track, before even lighting the ignition.

"It's old, used, and probably not as fast as the newer models," Amber said, tweaking a couple last things in the engine, "But it should hold true. Have you ever been on one before?"

"Yes," I said. Whilst I had never actually competed in a real race, Erol had let me mount his when it was in the garage from time to time. I had even done a lap of the track with him once. He had driven, but I had known from that moment on that I would be a racer the day I turned sixteen.

"Then you know –"

"How to steer, accelerate, brake, and stuff?" I interrupted. "Yeah. Trust me, I've done this before."

She nodded. "Okay." She paused, then reached over to retrieve a black helmet and gloves from behind her. Racers didn't typically wear helmets, or any form of protection for that matter, but there was no rule against or to enforce it. "I found this, so you can wear it and hide your face. You know, in case someone _mistakenly _thinks you're not sixteen. "

I rolled my eyes as I took the black protective gear and put it on. _Way to hide the sarcasm, Amber._

I took a minute to adjust my grip, test a few moves and experiment with my vision. Sighing, I dismounted the racer and slid the visor off my eyes.

"Ready?" Amber asked.

"As I'll ever be," I replied.

"Okay then. Help me bring the racer onto the track."

_

* * *

This is it, _I thought. For the Class 3 race, there would be no speech, no preamble. The racers brought their vehicles onto the track, the audience sat down in the stands, the green light would go, and I would try my hardest to win, or at the very least, _not die._ These competitions could get rough towards the last few laps.

All the competitors were settled on their racers, including me. My hand absently twisted on the grip in anticipation. I brought my left foot up off the ground and placed in on the pedal, so that all my weight was on the racer. All there was left to do was wait for the all four green lights to go off.

Amber's instructions swirled in my head. _Don't go for first right off the bat; wait until lap four or five. Only use turbo-blasts on straight-aways. Drifting high on turns can lose you a lot of time. _I knew all that already.

_Don't bump into other racers unless you want them to bump in to you. You can usually ride peacefully for the first lap or so, but once someone starts racing aggressively, it's on. _That was nice to know. As many times as I had seen racers drive combatively, I had never known of the real terms. _So be on your guard. _

_And don't take the shortcut. It's too risky, and you can win it on skill alone. _That was also useful. Honestly, I had been planning to use every timesaving route I came across, but I trusted Amber's advice, so I would be sure to stay clear of that.

Green. Everyone got into a racing posture and put on their game faces. Thankfully, no one could see my expression through the tinted visor.

Green. Grunts of anticipation. Was that loud thumping noise my heart?

Green. I took a deep breath.

Green.

All seven racers floored the gas pedals, making quick getaways. But being in the second row, I knew that one did not want to get caught up in the initial jockey for position. I hit the acceleration a split-second later, and managed to scrape by three clashing competitors from my vantage point. By the time everyone had found their ranks, I was right up in fourth place.

We sped around a significantly sharp turn and into the tunnel. I immediately saw why Amber had not wanted me to take the shortcut: it was a thirty foot leap over a bottomless pit, which would require not only speed and agility but an unnatural amount of luck to cross safely. I turned my racer to take the long turn around it, and watched out of my peripherals in horror as someone threw their vehicle over the chasm, only to land short and plummet. My stomach plunged to the depth of the pit, but I quickly swallowed my fear and kept racing.

After the short cut came a rather unexpected obstacle. There was a ramp angling over another pit, not as large but likely just as deep. Some competitors turned their vehicles sharply to coast along the walls, but I took the jump head on. My racer glided smoothly through the air before landing on the other side of the hole, to my immense relief.

There were three turns and then a straightaway as the tunnel exited, where I took advantage of my turbo and shot past the third place racer. But I got a little cocky, and someone passed me, while someone else was approaching quickly.

Something collided with the back of my racer, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I shot a quick glance behind me, only to find someone smirking with satisfaction as he pulled his vehicle around mine. Fuming as much as my damaged racer, I used another turbo, effectively shooting past him but drifting a bit too high on the following turn. It was on.

The next three laps passed by, the tension building gradually, and racers becoming more and more anxious to ram someone into a wall. I kept a steady third place, occasionally needed to "nudge" another racer to get it out of my way.

I was shocked by how second-nature racing was to me. I hadn't been taken aback or surprised whatsoever. The moment the lights had begun to flash green, it was as if my mind and body had gone into racing mode. I took the turns like a pro, occasionally drifting too high, but was always able to regain my position quickly enough.

As we sped by the lap marker for the fourth time, I knew it was time to take it up a notch. As the two heads and I came out of the first turn, I floored my pedal and cleverly used another turbo, actually catching a bit of air on the hill. I sped past the two racers in front of me and landed a solid first place going in to the tunnel. Feeling most out-of-character, I waved tauntingly as I swerved around them in a serpentine.

A thought passed through my mind: all the other action I had known lately had been inside my head, in the form of some internal debate. This was the first time I was in real, physical danger, the outcome affecting more than just me. It was a little strange.

But I loved it. As dangerous as action could be, I decided there was nothing better than feeling the cold rush of adrenaline, having every cell in my body focused on the here and now.

It was great. It was _me._

As usual, I took the side route instead of the shortcut in the tunnel. But to my dismay, one of my adversaries took the jump. I braced myself to hear the screams as he fell down the pit, but he landed the jump and sped expertly into the turn, leaving me bewildered. And in second place.

This was not the time to lose my rhythm, though. As we exited the tunnel, hearing the deafening cheers of the crowd, I planned my strategy. There was one more long straightaway where I could pass him with a turbo. But I would need to be right behind him to do that, so I took extra caution to take the turns well.

We came around the last one, me directly behind him. I steered off to the side a tiny bit, punched the turbo button, and…

Passed him! I shot past my last opponent just in time to race over the finish line. I let out a cheer of "yes!" as I brought my faithful racer to a steady halt. Smiling under my visor, I glanced up at the scoreboard, and saw Amber's name next to my picture (helmeted, of course) in the second place slot.

Second. What?

I watched as the first place winner, someone I hadn't even noticed in the beginning line up. I was still dumbfounded when Amber approached me, manoeuvring through past the mess of sponsors, reporters and team leaders.

"Second place! That's awesome!" she exclaimed. "You can go to the Class 2 if you want."

"No thanks," I said. "This was more of a one-time thing for me. Maybe another time. But I hope you find a good racer from your team to do the Class 2."

"Oh, well, okay." Amber and I both shifted uncomfortably as the awkward tension grew tighter and tighter. "I guess I'll see you around, then," she said, and went to join the mess of leaders to fill out some legal stuff.

I made my way off the track, speed-stepping directly towards the racers' exit. No prize for second place.

Downcast, I marched down the steps of the Mar Memorial Stadium, not bothering to hide my irritation, and thought of the days to come. Torn would never let me join the Underground, not after my pathetic display of alleged "skill" in the race. What had I been thinking, claiming I could _win,_ let alone _race, _against people much older and much bigger than me? Obviously, nothing coherent.

I was certain Tess would have allowed me to stay with her a while longer, but she had done enough for me. I simply wasn't good enough for the rebellion. And I was not going back to the KG – no matter how desperate I became. I was – as I had put it earlier – effectively screwed.

A sudden and irrational urge to lunge out and strike someone overwhelmed my entire being. I settled for punching the tall tree that appeared in front of me. How unfortunate for it. My fists slammed against its rough bark repetitively.

Once the tree was completely beaten and my knuckles were sufficiently bloody and raw, I drew back. I stared absently at my hands until the pain finally registered. I swore under my breath and breathed deeply, fists clutched against my chest.

So, to recap, I now had beaten knuckles to add to my rapidly growing list of injuries.

"Not feeling all that compassionate towards the trees today, are we?" inquired a dreadfully familiar voice. I turned only to come face to face with my favourite person in the entire world. Note the dripping sarcasm.

**

* * *

MUAHAHAHAHA! Cliffhangers rock. Unfortunately, I will be on vacation for the next two weeks, and it is unlikely that I will have access to a computer. So, I bid all you faithful readers a temporary farewell. It has been a pleasure. And who knows? Maybe I'll get a crack of inspiration while dangling from a cliff-face or speeding over some white-water rapids. Yes, I'm going to BC. I can't wait!**

**Teehee. Can't you just picture little six-year old Shae, or moreover, 14-year-old Erol?**

**So, what did you think? Praise, flames, comments or concerns? Please click the button below and share your thoughts.**

**See you all next time!**

**~Fishyicon**


	7. Unexpected Confrontations

**A/N: Hello! I'm back, and more inspired than ever to write this story. So, let's get this show on the road! Thanks to all you faithful readers and especially reviewers. I can't do this without you guys!**

**You know, as much as I am so thankful for the readers that review each chapter, I'd like to say that even those that only review once or twice are all part in making my day a much better one. Especially on a day like this, where you dive in the water too soon, smash your face on the bottom, and come up with a bloody lip. Ow. So wonderful, heartfelt thanks goes out to Faithful Reject, Blood Spirit and Camp Chess Friend (I think I know you personally, though… I'll ask in an e-mail, or you can tell me in a review – hint, hint)! Thanks guys!**

**Unfortunately, you awesome people are going to have to satisfy yourselves with a bit of a filler chapter. Sorry, but this isn't a very action packed chapter. Mostly conversations. NOT to say you shouldn't read it, because it's probably pretty important to the rest of the story's track. But my apologies if it drags on a bit. Hopefully, this will get the filler out of the way and leave room for lots of good stuff coming up! Like introducing Jak and Daxter into the story! (Two more chapters, I swear).**

**If you plan to review, a good portion of my credit should go to the best beta in the world, EcoSeekr247! She has been so patient with me through all the stress of writing this chapter, so thank you, thank you, thank you! Drop her a nice note if you find the time!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title Jak and Daxter. Naughty Dog does! Wow, even my disclaimer is as bland as the chapter. So, so, so sorry!**

* * *

Part 1: Chapter 7: Unexpected Confrontations

"Erol," I growled, bearing my teeth in a rather feral way. He smirked as he approached me, taking his sweet time to descend the last few steps of the Mar Memorial Stadium that I had taken not moments before.

"Shae, where have you been?" he asked, oddly lightly. I gave him a look that said, _I can see right through your pathetic act._But he gave me one that said, _I'm having too much fun to stop now_. "What were you thinking, running away like that? You gave me and your brother quite a scare."

"Oh, did I?" I said, annoyed and not hiding it, "Well, I'll be sure to apologize to Lex next time I see him. You'll tell him I'm doing well if you two cross paths, won't you?" Sarcasm was not typical for me, but this was Erol.

Erol chuckled lightly. "You always were the funny one. But we both know you can't act. So would you mind telling me how you managed to get into the race?"

"I would mind, actually. But since I didn't win, it shouldn't matter. Now, if you'll excuse me," I dismissed. I tried to push by him, but my evil brother leaned one arm against the tree, cleverly blocked my exit.

He placed his face very close to mine. "Cut the crap, Shae," he snapped, and suddenly**,** our joking light atmosphere was replaced by a dark and serious one. He wasn't speaking in a typical way either, but this was me. "You need to get back to the KG. Back in line, where you belong! All you're doing is adding to how harsh your punishment is going to be when you get back."

I cringed at the thought. "That doesn't give me much incentive to go back then, does it?"

He snickered, the most evil thing I had ever seen anyone do. My eyes caught the movement of his hand, and I couldn't help but allow them a quick glance. Erol's hand had twitched towards the gun on his side. His hand had been resting near it the entire time, but this was the first time his fingers had actually closed around it.

I flicked my sight back up to my brother, whose jaw was set and eyes unreadable. Had he meant for me to see him grab the eco pistol? No doubt.

"You don't scare me, Erol," I warned him quietly**,** "I know you'd never shoot me. You'd never shoot anyone with that thing." I sensed our confrontation – albeit brief – was drawing to a close.

"Now, see, that's where you're wrong." He took advantage of the opportune moment and brought the weapon up to the hollow between my neck and shoulder. With anyone else, I would have been scared out of my wits. But something Erol failed to realize was that no matter how much he had changed in the past years, I would still know him better than anyone else. And he would never shoot that gun.

"I'm giving you two options, Shae. You can either come back to the Fortress willingly, or I can have some guards escort you back forcefully. Your choice."

He beckoned some guards over with his hand, the gun not one deviating from its imposing position by my shoulder. I had to hand it to Erol; he was clever. He held the weapon in such a way that no one else would notice it at first glance, and likewise I was positioned casually enough that it appeared as though we were just having a conversation. Then there were the guards that strolled around on their daily patrols, but with the eyes fixated on Erol.

"All this for me? You shouldn't have."

"You're running out of time, Shae. Once these guards get here, it's option two, whether you like it or not."

"Is there a third option?" I inquired through clenched teeth.

Much to my surprise, he said, "Yes." But what I heard next was not the answer I had been hoping for.

"You try to escape, and we'll see how true my aim really is."

"Well, if it's anything like mine, we're in for a big disappointment," I muttered, but my previously-steady voice was now trembling too much for my liking. Erol wasn't playing fair; when we had been little kids, you had to battle things out one-on-one. Calling in backup was out of the question.

Still, the guards approached at a steady, constant pace. I refused to meet Erol's eyes, and turned so my back was facing him to illustrate this. It did nothing to loosen his grip on me, but at least I could see my surroundings more clearly now. The few KG were inching precariously close.

_Come on, think! They can't get you this easily, _I thought. And as I did a subtle scan of the Mar Memorial Stadium, an idea began to form in my head.

"Well, there is something to be said for having your gun this close to the target," I murmured slyly. In one quick, imperceptible motion, I grabbed my own gun out of my belt and pressed it into his side. Two could play at that game. "It's much harder to miss."

If he was surprised by my bold move, he hid it well. I frowned. I had been hoping for a reaction, a remark, anything that I could build from.

Then I realized why he made no attempt to stop me. If neither of us fired, the guards would eventually be upon us anyway, and my stunt would have been for nothing. If he fired, I would fire too, and we'd both be down. Furthermore, if I shot, so would he. We had arrived at an impasse, but one that would soon be broken by the KG. I needed a new plan.

_Think, Shae, think,_ that little voice screamed. But there was nothing I could do. Erol knew me as well as I knew him, and would see anything coming before I had the chance to execute it. That was one of my biggest weaknesses; I was too predictable.

_Then be unpredictable._

My subconscious chose that moment to give me intelligent advice. I wondered why a good plan like that hadn't popped up earlier in my traumatic week, but decided that pondering that would take too much time. Instead, I went with it.

What would Erol expect me to do? Like as not something stupid, like confuse him by dropping the gun and then try to take my adversaries out with fists. Or break off into a sprint as he handed me off to the KG. As good ideas went, those were definitely up there. _But he'll see them coming._

My subconscious had another breakthrough at that moment. It was so good that I was prepared to applaud myself, and it was so clear that I began to believe to believe that it was really my active mind thinking of these schemes.

_Don't think like a KG. Think like a rebel._

What would an Underground agent do? Probably something brash and impulsive, yet destructive and efficient, like actually shoot him. And as well as that would work, it was like the race: once one person started playing dirty, it shattered the unspoken oath, and all were free to do as they pleased.

Moreover, I could never shoot a living being. Maybe after a few months of training with the rebels, but not now. Not yet.

Still, the idea of shooting was so tantalizing that I almost took my chance. But my fingers froze up at the thought, and I knew I would never be able to shoot Erol. As evil as he was, he was still my brother, and siblings weren't supposed to shoot one another.

Well, maybe with toy guns. But that was another story.

"Time's up, sis," Erol murmured close to my ear, sending unpleasant shivers down my spine. Sure enough, I looked up and the KG were mere feet away.

_COME ON! Underground agents need to think fast! You think fast, right? Do something NOW!_

I used a move I had learned from wrestling with my brothers and twisted out of Erol's firm hold on my arm and threw the hand wielding the gun up into the air. All the guards, including Erol, froze, unsure of what I was doing. Before any of them could regain their bearings, I pulled the trigger on the gun, sending a blast of Red Eco out of the barrel.

The shot hit the tree beside me, sending splinters flying. I was prepared to duck, but the others were not so lucky. Many got caught in chinks in their armour, and Erol, whose face was not protected by a mask or even goggles, received a shard of wood in his eye.

While they were all distracted, I used the pieces from my earlier thoughts and tore out of there. _How was that for impulsive actions? _I asked my subconscious, half-expecting it to reply. Then I remembered it wouldn't, and focused my thoughts on finding a zoomer.

No one, save the KG, was in possession of vehicles in Haven City; one just had to find a zoomer that was in modest overall condition and ensure that it would start. I spotted one off to my left and sprinted towards it.

The one-seated zoomer, designed for speed and agility like the NYFE racers, ignited at my command, and I threw it into high-hover just as Erol called something from the crime-scene I had just departed:

"You missed!"

"Pretty sure I didn't!" I retorted, and sped off. "Shouldn't have taught me how to drive one of these things, Erol!"

Erol had let me drive a zoomer with him when I was little. He would sit on the back of course, but after a few practise runs I was able to steer independently. I was even given consent to use the acceleration pedals once I grew tall enough. Unfortunately, I had been required to wait awhile, as I took after Erol and was notably short for my age. By this time, Erol and I were roughly the same height, but Lex was a decent half-a-head taller.

I heard him growl in frustration. My body was filled with such adrenaline that I almost ignored the fact that his voice was closer than it should have been. In all the confusion, I had manoeuvred the zoomer right over top of the KG!

"Stop that zoomer!" Erol ordered, still rubbing his eye tenderly. The KG opened fire.

I screamed and banked to the side, nearly tossing myself into the air in the process. Once I regained my racing posture, I floored the pedal and took off in the right direction, out of the stadium and into Main Town.

Once there, I tried to blend in with the busy midday traffic. It was especially busy after a race, to my immediate relief. But I was still too ostentatious, and had to quickly rethink my strategy.

I veered into the middle of the street and punched the button to lower the zoomer back to the primary hover-zone. The vehicle plunged down, past the traffic, past the pedestrians, a stomach-unsettling drop all the way down to the water level. There was a small stream that ran through the middle of the wide paths, with a few bridges crisscrossing overtop. Two KG on their signature scarlet zoomer bikes dropped to my level and proceeded to shoot at me again. But the channel was so narrow I was able to serpentine to avoid the shots. One guard even lost control and was thrown into the water. His bike crashed into the wall of the channel and exploded.

That gave me an idea. There was an underpass after the next turn. If the guard came out of it and I didn't… it would certainly get them off my tail.

I lowered myself so my stance was more aerodynamic. My feet put as much pressure as I could muster onto the pedals, and the zoomer whined in protest as it accelerated even more. The guard was a perfect twenty feet behind me.

The channel opened up into more of a pool. I saw the tunnel coming up on my left. As I banked the zoomer and entered the passage, I noted how small it really was. I would only have one chance at this.

I turned the bike so its length stretched across the width of the underpass. Then I took a deep breath and braced myself for the impact. The guard entered after me and didn't have time to alter his course before his zoomer collided with mine. His made it out reasonably unscathed as far as I could tell, but mine became a blazing inferno of leaking fluids and destroyed metal.

I, of course, was well underwater as this scene unfolded. The only thing I had to be conscious of was avoiding the burnt remains of the zoomer as they plummeted down to the bottom of the waterway.

As soon as the KG was out, I pulled myself to the surface and gasped in a deep lungful of air. I heard the guards arguing amongst themselves, and barely had time to dive back into the depths before a couple of scout zoomers came into the tunnel to examine the damage.

They remained in the tunnel far too long. All my injuries were blazing with a renewed pain, whether from the shock, the explosion or the salty, polluted water, I could not fathom. But it was nothing compared to the screaming protests of my lungs, which were rapidly running out of oxygen.

_Leave, please, leave. Seriously, get out of this tunnel. I need to breathe, you know!_

The seconds ticked by at an agonizing pace. Still they did not leave, or even make any action hinting that they might move on soon.

Finally, they nodded in assent and left. I forced myself to stay in the dank, murky water for just another three seconds before using the wall, my muscles, whatever means necessary to break the surface as soon as possible.

I surfaced and took several deep, desperate breaths. I tried to keep them quiet, and the splashing to a minimum, terrified by the knowledge that any conspicuous noise might send the guards back down here, perhaps to do a more thorough sweep.

I gave it five minutes, alternating between treading water and clinging to protruding rocks on the walls. When I was satisfied they had departed, I slowly swam back out of the tunnel. There was a rather convenient ramp off to one side, which I used to clamber back onto dry, metal land.

Just as a precaution, I slipped my hood over my head and tried my best to tuck the wet strands of hair into it. It would do nothing to disguise me, especially if I was sopping wet, but I only had vain hopes to cling to at that point.

_My stuff is probably soaked, _I mused as I walked. I was so preoccupied with thinking inconsequential thoughts that I didn't even hear the guard call me at first.

"You! Citizen with the hood! Turn around!"

I silently spat a colourful word into the air before turning to face the guard. Well, he wasn't going to get me without a fight. And since my acting skills had been steadily ameliorating all day, I figured it was a great time to play innocent.

"Yes, sir? Is there something I can help you with?"

He marched up to me, standing a full head taller when he finally reached me.

"Citizens are not allowed to swim in any main bodies of water in the city. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you in for questioning."

What? He was arresting me for just being wet? It could have rained, for all he knew!

My hatred towards this guard, towards every single KG, towards this entire city, put me on such an edge that I probably could have fooled myself into thinking the KG were the good guys.

"I'm sorry, but everyone was running around, and one of the guards knocked me off the path."

I wished I could see his face under the mask, to know what kind of reaction I'd drawn.

"Is that so?" he asked, and I gave him a very sincere nod.

"Oh, yes. But I saw there was a commotion over by the tunnel, so I got out as soon as possible." I was a very inexperienced individual, so it was always a shock when my abilities proved to be so proficient.

He gave me a grunt of satisfaction. "Alright. Now, move along," he ordered, and I acted all-too willing to comply. As soon as he was out of view, I began laughing out loud, despite my horrible standpoint.

I was able to make it all the way to the Slums before my life took another turn. My hair and clothes were all reasonably dry from the hot, overhead sun. It was an atypical day in Haven City when the sun came out. Usually the sky was overcast and gloomy, perfectly reflecting the atmosphere in the city. The temperature was rather unconventional too, so hot for a day in mid-autumn. It rarely reached this heat in the summer months.

It began with the eerie sensation that someone was watching me. Something I'd never dealt with before, since everyone ignored the short, annoying girl in the KG; likewise on the streets now.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my posture straightened with them. I had been on high alert ever since I left Erol an hour ago, so the feeling was very unsettling. I tried to look nonchalant as I scan the perimeter, but most of my acting talent had been used up that morning.

Then I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I decided it best not to make a scene in the middle of the streets, especially since I had been unnaturally fortunate that the KG earlier had not recognized me. Once was far too many times, and my luck was bound to run out eventually.

I turned and walked very deliberately to a less-crowded area. The shadow caught on and followed me. I stopped just as abruptly as I had started, and turned to face my stalker.

"Hello, Torn," I said coldly. There was no pretending that time.

"You lost the race," he accused pointedly. Not one for introductions, I reckoned.

"So it would seem." I was beyond trying to convince him I'd still done a heck of a lot better than he could have.

"Still, second's not bad," he mused, seemingly to himself.

"Not good enough, according to you."

"I didn't say you had to come in first, kid."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Yes, you did," I blurted before I could stop myself.

"Do you want me to revert to my original order, or do you want to work with the rebels?"

"No!" I shouted. Then, "I mean, yes, I want to be on your side," muchquieter.

"Good. We'll talk tomorrow," he said dismissively.

"Wait!" I called. It wasn't right. He had made it very clear: win or go home. I hadn't won, so why was he still letting me join? I voiced the thought.

"Because you were smart enough to somehow get into the race despite your age, you can manoeuvre well enough for escort missions, you think quick, you can drive a zoomer, and you're clever enough not to get caught by guards when they chase you."

How had he gotten all that from watching me race? The first two, maybe three were valid enough. But after that? There was no way. Unless… unless…

"How long have you been watching me today?" I didn't need to know the answer.

"Long enough," he said, and one look told me I shouldn't question it further, for whatever reason. I did know that he didn't expect me to spy on Erol anymore, though.

"Okay."

"So, tomorrow, first thing," he said.

"Wait, why tomorrow? Don't I get to come into the Underground now?"

He chuckled, but I didn't find anything funny. What was he trying to pull now?

"Tomorrow. We'll negotiate then." He paused, trying to decide whether to say something or leave it at that. "Nice shot, by the way."

With that, he walked off, looking more like a normal citizen than I ever could. And _he_ was the leader of the Underground, not me.

"Hey, Torn?" I called. He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Thanks."

He turned at that. "What do you take me for? A completely careless jerk?"

I fought the urge to tell him that was _precisely_ what I took him for. Instead, I said nothing and walked in the other direction.

I took the road back to Main Town, taking the most direct route. I had been postponing something for too long, and I had promised myself that it would happen before the week was up.

I had to go home.

* * *

Our new house was really big. Not a castle, really, but much more sizeable than our little shack in the Slums. Although ever since arriving here, I've prayed nonstop that we could go back to the old place.

Well, it wasn't so much that I wanted the old house. Just something familiar, something to reassure me that the ground under my feet hadn't completely given way.

_You're not here for long,_ my mind piped up again. _Just long enough to get some food, dry clothes and stuff to help you survive._

I hesitated at the entry, my hand hovering above the handle. But no matter how reassuring my subconscious could be, I couldn't force myself open the door. For some reason, it felt like breaking and entering. Maybe because I spent so little time here. I only ever visited it on weekends, holidays and the occasional sick day.

To Lex and I, it was our house. Not Erol's, solely because he was never around. In the eighteen months we had lived in Main Town, Erol had never spent the night here. He preferred the Krimzon Guard Fortress. I could not fathom why, but since he was the Commander, he might have had better accommodations. But that didn't bother me; I could not have cared less if Erol was not around. It ruled out the chance that Erol would be there now.

I finally got up the courage to open the door. This was locked, much to my dismay. And I hadn't bothered to keep my key.

But that wasn't going to keep me from entering. There was a window I knew had a broken lock. Unfortunately, it was on the second story.

I sneaked into the alley between our abode and the shield wall. There was a post I had used to break in many times formerly, and I used it to hoist myself up.

Once inside, it was like a wind blew through, changing the atmosphere and feel. Everything seemed different, alien, as if I were seeing the interior for the first time. After a visual sweep through the house, I could affirm that nothing was out of place. Just me.

"My room" was the first stop. I emptied the contents of my bag onto the floor, replacing only the weapons and Eco crystal. Everything else got shoved in the closet. I selected another outfit and stowed some extra clothing in the bag. After a quick moment's contemplation, I decided to keep my KG boots. They would be useful.

Downstairs, I refilled some water flasks and grabbed some more food. I chose the fruits that appeared the least mouldy, the snacks that seemed to be within their expiration dates.

Finally, I was set to go. I lifted the backpack over my shoulders, much heavier now due to the replenished store of food and water. As I gave the room a quick glance, I remarked how final it felt. As though this was it; after I left, I would no longer be Shae, but an entirely new person. The threshold for the door seemed like the passage to so much more than just the outside world, the handle awkward and new under my trembling hand.

I drew back. There was no way I could do it; I wasn't strong enough, not courageous enough. I was the younger sister. Someone had always been there to take care of me, make sure I made the right decisions. Now, having to go out alone in the world, not knowing where each footstep would transport me to, I was clueless, completely out of my element.

_Go on. Do it. Don't be a coward._

_Don't do it. You're safer here._

_Well, whatever you plan on doing, you had best get out of this house, because you aren't making any progress standing here!_

Whichever part of my brain chose to speak up last, I had to agree with it. And once again, it all came down to one thing: what would an Underground agent do? Well, she wouldn't stand here, waiting for something to move her. She would move herself. With renewed valour, I grasped the door handle, threw open the lock, and the door slid open before me.

But I hadn't moved it. Someone on the other side of the door had. Someone who was tall, with red hair and gold eyes.

Lex looked shocked to see me, but his expression could be nowhere near as taken aback as mine. Every part of my body froze, waiting for him to say something.

"Hey, Shae," he greeted, smiling as ever.

Hey? Why was he acting so cool, so calm? For the second time in a week, his attitude baffled me.

Then it dawned on me: he didn't know anything was wrong. We had seen each other in a week, but that was normal. I was greeting him at the house on the weekend; also normal. I doubted Erol had even told him I was gone. But there was no way I would be able to act as cool as him through all this.

Besides, he was my closest friend. I had to tell him at some point.

"Hello," I mumbled, reaching for a piece of hair to tug on before I remembered it was all too short.

"Slammin' hair, sis," he chuckled. "Bet that goes much better under your helmet." He pushed past me and strode casually into the kitchen, grabbing a fruit off the table. "So, how was your week?"

"I quit the KG," I spouted. My thoughts weren't connecting enough for me to know whether I had said that advertently or not.

He just looked at me. "Really?"

"Yeah. Because I went to spy on that kid and Erol was torturing him and I couldn't stay after knowing that. So I ran off and I met this girl who let me stay with her but soon I had to leave. But she told me to join the rebellion and so I tried but the leader said I had to win the race to get in. So I did, but I only came second and then I met Erol outside who tried to take me back but I shot the tree and then…." I babbled incessantly, my voice slowly rising, until Lex finally stood up and crossed the room. He put his hands on my shoulders, and one look told me to stop speaking.

"Very interesting week. Got'cha."

"How are you still smiling?" I cried. "I've just told you about my week of post-apocalyptic events, and you look happy?"

"Quiet down, you'll wake up the neighbourhood," he said. I took a deep breath and tried to slow down my words and my heart rate.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so," I said tentatively.

"Okay. Then we'll just take the next few weeks as they come, 'kay?"

I gave a half-hearted smile. "Alright, I'll try."

"Good. Now, do you need anything else?"

I thought for a moment. "Yes. A place to stay the night."

"Well, lucky for you, you have a house."

"Yeah. And if it's not too much, I'd like to crash, like, now," I said. Everything that week had wiped me out.

"Sure thing," he said, and left me to my room. That was another great thing about Lex: he knew when talking was not going to solve anything.

I had a few final thoughts before sleep fell over me, like the blanket that was already settled about me:

This was my real Haven; the only place I was safe.

And maybe, just maybe, I life would be okay, for the first time in years.

Maybe.

**

* * *

A/N: Shae's subconscious took on a mind of its own here. I couldn't get it to shut up! Sorry if it got kind of annoying.**

**Well, that's it for part one, folks! Don't worry; part two is well on the way. This was just to set up the characters, setting, all that jazz. Next bit will be for the action, adventure and drama! Hold on to your socks, because I'm about to knock them off with the rest of this story!**

**Alright, flames, praise, comments, advice? The usual. Emphasis on the latter, though. Seriously, I love advice! Don't be shy!**

**Peace!**

**~Fishyicon**


	8. Team Player

**A/N: Okay. That last chapter took a lot out of me, but thankfully this one was already set to submit. Well, not really. It was just bits and pieces. But I finally got up the courage to sew them together in the right order, adding a few transitions here and there. This is when the story gets good, people.**

**Oh, and according to my awesome short buddy, LeiaOrganicSolo, Shae sports a pair of red goggles on her head. Who knew? I decided to integrate that into this chapter just for you, short buddy!**

**PLEASE READ THIS NEXT PART.**

**Disclaimer: I expect by now it's sunk in that I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter". Who does? Naughty Dog! However, the codenames later in the chapter are courtesy of my cousin Zack. Personally, I think they're kind of silly and idiotic – no offense, buddy. It worked when we were discussing it – but when I put it in, the context seemed rather unrelated. However, Zack is two years older and a heck of a lot bigger. So what can you do? I hope you get a good laugh out of it, anyway.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Part 2: Chapter 8: Team Player

There was a reason Haven Forest was temporarily off-limits to normal citizens. That reason being, there are huge, bloodthirsty Metal Bug flankers hiding within the trees, waiting for some unfortunate rule-breaker to come and interrupt their respite.

"Unfortunate" and "rule-breaker" are two words that described me perfectly, so one can already assume what became of my visit to the forest.

So, there I was: crouching on the tree branch, Eco pistol in hand, eyes and ears on high-alert, waiting for a Metal Head Scout to appear. The evening air was still and calm, save the soothing flow of a nearby stream and a strange buzzing noise I could not place. The double sunset provided just enough light for sharp visibility.

Suddenly, something changed, and I heard a rustle of leaves. Peering through the branches, I tried to pinpoint the direction from which the noise was coming from. Then I realized: it was much too close to be a Scout. Slowly turning my head, my eyes focused in on a swarm of roughly a dozen gigantic wasp-like Metal Bugs.

Seeing no smarter alternative, I turned tail and jumped out of the tree, wincing at the sharp contact of my ankles to the hard earth. I then proceeded to do what I had been doing for years.

I ran.

Still I heard the buzzing behind me, gradually becoming louder. I knew the flankers had caught up to me when I felt the acute stab of pain from a stinger piercing my skin, right above the inside of my knee. I cursed under my breath but continued to run nonetheless. Two more needles jabbed my skin, and the areas around the spikes began to swell and turn an ugly red.

I ran as fast as my legs would carry me until I got to the exit platform, finally willing my feet to stop. Thankfully, the buzzing had ceased altogether by that point, and a quick 360˚ revealed calm surroundings once again. I sighed in relief and collapsed on the platform, which had begun levitating back towards the Mountain Temple.

Whether by actual flankers or simply paranoia, the low, buzzing sound reached my ears again, extracting a strange reaction somewhere between twitching and shivering. Moving unnaturally fast the moment the platform touched ground, I hopped through the rift ring, which placed me on the other size of the chasm, right next to an entrance to the city. I strode towards it quickly and stepped into the airlock.

When the doors reopened, I walked casually back onto the dirt road of the Gardens Sector. My eyes spotted a parked zoomer to my right, which I promptly mounted and drove back to the Underground Hideout.

Upon arriving in the cramped, musty room, threw myself onto the nearest bunk bed, barely managing to remain conscious. I wanted to wrap myself in the ugly blankets and fall asleep, but knew deep down that was unwise.

The temperature outside was beginning to drop significantly, but the only heating used in the Hideout originated from a small heater in the corner. The main room was kept reasonably warm, but the hallways and chambers in the back could get extremely cold. Some recruits chose to sleep on one of the small, filthy bunks in the main room during the winter, solely because of the heat. (The conditions were much better in the back rooms.) But even in mid-autumn, I was beginning to consider camping out here myself, despite the fact that Underground agents would be coming and going all night.

A moment later, I sat up and began the much-pain-inducing process of removing the flanker stingers from my skin, consisting of pinching the area around the wound and yanking on the needle. Once the spears head been removed, a vile green poison began to secrete from the puncture holes. I shuddered and stuck out my tongue in disgust.

"Need I remind you that you're still not an official member?" Torn asked from his regular spot behind the large wooden desk in the middle of the room.

I looked up from my work and gave him an impassive glance. His eyes, however, still studied the maps and paperwork laid out in front of him. "Need _I_ remind _you_ that I'm allowed to stay the night as long as I do something useful for you?"

"And…?" he prodded. I rolled my eyes.

"Look, I camped out in three different trees for two hours and I saw _nothing._ How much proof do you need? Let me spell it out for you: _There are no more Scouts in Haven Forest._" I stressed each word equally.

"Did you bring physical proof?"

A loud, exasperated sigh escaped my lips. "Precursors, Torn, I've done enough! Just let me stay the night," I begged. Even after much practise, my acting talents could only be considered moderate at best.

"You can stay the night," he said, although he seemed to leave it hanging, as if he would continue the sentence. Relieved by his comment despite the tone, I was about to collapse on the bed, no matter how dirty it was when Torn continued. "But only the night. Come back in about an hour."

"Still embarrassed to have me around, Torn?" I asked very sarcastically.

A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, but dissipated just as quickly. "Go get something to eat, drive around a bit, and come back. You'll feel better, anyway."

"I don't know. I'd rather stay here, make a meal out of your _lovely_ and _not-at-all_ long-past-expired dried food packets, and breathe in the _tantalizing_ fresh air of this _roomy_ home…"

"Get out of here, worthless girl," he snarled playfully, tossing the nearest writing utensil at me. I giggled.

Unable to find the strength to protest further, I rose from the bed, hearing the timeworn wood creak from relief of weight. Torn had never quite warmed up to me, but we both held some sort of respect for each other. There was some unspoken agreement of "I won't annoy you, you won't annoy me, and we'll all be happy." Not the friendliest relationship in the world, but effective enough.

"Oh, by the way," Torn called just moments before I exited the small room. I whirled under the threshold and gave Torn my best listless expression.

"There are some agents planning a team tag game at the gun course tomorrow morning, if you're interested."

"Are you kidding?" I questioned eagerly. "Of course I want to go!"

"I thought you were too tired," he challenged.

I stuck out my tongue indignantly. "Tell them I'll be there." Then, acting very nonchalant, I gave a quick wave and strode out of the room.

I was halfway up the exit hall before realizing how painful it was to walk in that particular manner, and stumbled a bit, clutching the more painful sting on my leg. Torn gave an almost unintelligible snicker behind me.

"Shut up, Torn," I muttered, and left the room with whatever dignity I still had intact.

* * *

The front door of my house creaked open suddenly. The hand that had been running through my still-short hair froze. I whirled around, fearing the worst, and instinctively grabbed for my Eco pistol, which sat on the staircase to my far right, much to my dismay. In the doorway stood a Krimzon Guard, looking up at me with his gold eyes.

I heaved a sigh of relief, placing my hand over my chest to make sure my heart had started beating again. "Precursors, Lex, you scared the daylights out of me!"

He cocked his head and gave me a curious look. "Who did you think I was?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said, still trying to get my blood moving through my body again. "Some KG that had come to arrest me. Or worse, Erol."

Cocking his eyebrow this time, he gave me a sinister look. "How do you know I'm not? I could very well be Erol or just another KG."

I wanted to point out that I could tell the difference just thanks to that last sentence, but I decided to go along with his joke. "You're right," I said, feigning horror. "Tell me something only Lex would know."

"I know that when we used to play with the model Hellcats in Haven Forest," he began, and I was already giggling. "Your codename was 'Spicy Turtle'."

I began laughing hysterically. Somewhere in the middle I managed to ground out, "You got me there, Doom Turtle," but I didn't think he had heard it. Lex laughed nonetheless before turning to go about his own business in the kitchen.

"So, what's up with Erol these days?" I tried to ground out between subsiding laughs. The words left my mouth in a fairly indecipherable manner, and Lex turned to shoot me a quizzical look.

I mumbled a curt apology and cleared my throat before attempting the words again. "Any word on Erol lately?"

"Oh, same as usual. Enforcing unjust laws, wreaking havoc in the Fortress, spending time with his best friend the Baron…."

"Is he still after me?" I asked. The close call from the Stadium had been so long ago, yet I could still picture it in my head as vividly as if I were living the moment. That day seemed to be engraved in my sub-cranium."

"Oh, I don't think so," he reassured me. It wasn't a very significant worry anymore, but it was always nice to know if Erol had assembled a team to tear the city apart looking for me. "It wouldn't surprise me if he doesn't even remember you're his sister."

"Oh, well then," I said. "Any news of consequence I can pass on to the Underground?" Lex had been so enthusiastic when I told him about joining the rebellion that he now considered himself a spy, no matter how indirect. He wasn't a real undercover agent, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that. So I allowed him to give me information about the KG to inform Torn about if anything of interest arose. Plus, it made him feel a bit better about not quitting the KG along with me. But it was no question that we would have Erol surveying us every living second if he did. So being a partial spy was much safer. A win-win for everyone.

"Nah," he said. "But you know that ammo hold in the Fortress?" he asked. I nodded; Torn had been trying to coax someone into going in to dispose of the dangerous store of ammunition hidden in the Fortress that would prove very perilous to the Underground if the KG were to avail themselves of it and their state-of-the-art gunships.

"Erol's had one of those new tanks put in the entrance just so that no one can get to the storage room. There are lots of sentries around there, too, but the room itself is actually free of patrollers. In case that's important."

I was reasonably certain my mouth was wide open in astonishment. Those thoughts were confirmed by Lex's amused expression.

"Of course that's important!" I exclaimed. In fact, Torn had been pushing me to go take care of that as of late. Perhaps giving him information like that would get him in my favour and I would be off the hook. "I'll have to pass that on, if you don't mind."

"Whatever floats your boat," he replied. It was my turn to give him an inquisitive look. Whilst his speech wasn't as obstructed by slang as when he was sixteen, he still had a tendency to use odd phrases that I could not comprehend.

He sighed. "Yes. I don't mind. You hungry?"

"Yeah," I answered, and my stomach groaned in assent. "Why?"

"I was going to get something to eat, and I wondered if you wanted some too," he answered uncertainly.

"You're going to cook?" I gasped mockingly.

He shot me an irritated expression. "This may surprise you, but I am physically capable of cooking a meal."

"Just not a good one," I reminded him.

"Like your cooking is any better."

I lost my smooth rhythm. "Fine. But don't go for anything fancy. Stick to something like stir-fry. I'll cut up some veggies," I offered.

"With all your knife-wielding talent?" Lex mumbled. It was still hard for him to believe that they had let someone like me into the rebellion at age fourteen. And claiming it was because of skill had only brought on another round of mocking laughter.

I was sure he had been speaking to himself, but he often forgot that I had unnaturally amplified hearing. "Quiet, KG. And you know I prefer a gun, anyway. Which is why I'm going to own at team tag tomorrow."

That wasn't necessarily true. My aim and skill with the Eco pistol had improved through practice, but I was still a long way from being a meticulous gunner. And if Maven and Keele were on the opposite team, I would have my work cut out for me.

"Tell me this: how do you plan to chop vegetables with a blaster?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes and continued my search for edible legumes.

After a modest dinner, I made my way back to the Underground, taking advantage of the extra time to do a speed lap around the city. I had to be cautious not to arise suspicion from the KG, but I tried to push the limit whenever I could. Racing was the only thing that was still mine, that I was still the best at. I had never gone to a Class One, but that was strategy: if I were to be in that race, I would surely meet Erol. No one had taken his title of Grand Champion from him yet, and whilst I was confident I could, it would be too risky.

Plus, there were many new racers that had emerged in the last few years, and they would provide quite a challenge. Maven, who would be at team tag the next day, had taken an interest to racing, and was quite good. But since I was his team's best racer, it was never an issue.

There was also a girl with blue hair who worked as a mechanic and driver for her team. No one knew where she had come from, but no one was brave enough to ask her, either. She just locked herself away in the garage all day, emerged for races, and then went back to work on Precursors know what.

As late as it was, I decided Torn wouldn't be mad if I came in later than expected – quite the opposite, probably. People were running some practise laps at the stadium, so I parked the one-seated zoomer and took a seat in the stands. I was one of the few people there, amongst trainers, team leaders and other citizens like me with nothing better to do.

There were five racers on the track. I didn't recognize any of the names or pictures on the standings board, so I just leaned back and zoned out, shut down my consciousness for a few seconds, letting the only things that registered be the sounds of the vehicles tearing up the track as they prepared for the upcoming Class Three heats.

It didn't matter; if I was in the same heat as them, I would be the winner, no competition.

With an exasperated sigh, one that I could not place in the midst of all my emotion, I pulled myself out of the racing stands and took the zoomer back to the Hideout.

Torn was still leaning over his cluttered desk when I arrived. Someone else was with him this time, though.

"Tess!" I acknowledged, cheery despite my lethargy. I hadn't seen my blond friend in a long time.

"Hey," she waved, but she seemed quieter than usual, more tired. Then again, it was near midnight….

"What's up?" I asked.

Neither Tess nor Torn seemed very inclined to tell me much. "Just some issues. Nothing big," Tess promised.

"Okay," I said, making the word long and uncertain.

"Hey, Tess," Torn exclaimed. Once he had her attention again, he jerked a hand toward the door.

She nodded. "We've got some stuff to take care of. Be back soon," she promised, as if they were the parents and me the child.

"Sure," I replied. I wanted to ask more questions, but thought it best for everyone not to.

"Wait, Torn?" I called, recalling the information Lex had given me consent to pass on. "I've got some info, if you're interested. You know that ammo dump you've been monitoring?"

"Yeah."

"They've installed a lot more security around there, but I've heard that the room with the supplies is actually patrol-free."

"Hum," he mused. "Good to know. Thanks." He didn't question my source. He never bothered.

Tess and Torn then left through the narrow exit hall, leaving me alone in the main room.

Deciding to occupy myself a few minutes longer, I dug out some bandages from the crates stacked around the room. Then, as I was wrapping them about the Flanker sting marks, I heard voices outside.

Now, the Underground usually had some code of conduct, one of the higher-priority rules being, "Don't spy on other agents." Especially not Torn or Tess, but that went without saying. Nevertheless, I played up my rule-breaker side and slid over to the bunk nearest the entry. My ears could hear every word through the sliding stone barrier.

"We're looking for a guy named Torn," someone announced. The voice was deep and rough but not one I could place. It was also quite muted, so I moved closer to the door, inching up the hallway until I was next to the rock wall. "Kor sent us. Um…" he hesitated. "Are you… Torn?"

I laughed inwardly. It was probably Tess and Torn trying to scare of some citizen who wanted to join. It was standard protocol for all new recruits. If a recruit couldn't stand up to Torn's cold and evil expressions, there was no way he could stand up to Metal Heads, KG, the Baron.

"Maybe this guy's a mute, like you used to be." The second voice was much higher in tone, much lighter in attitude, almost joking. That voice was familiar, but still not one I could pinpoint. It was as if I had conjured it up in a dream, years ago. And that quote about being mute? Something was gnawing at the back of my brain, but I switched my focus back to the conversation.

"New faces make me nervous," Torn informed darkly. "Word is you're out to join the fight for the city. You know, picking the wrong side could be... unhealthy."

"We want to see the Shadow," the first voice, the low one, said. The Shadow was a short, green gentleman who organized the entire Underground movement. He was supposedly a master with Green Eco, but the only part of him that pledged for that was his skin tone, an odd light pea green.

Torn let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "Not likely. If you and your _pet_ want to join something, why don't you go join the circus?" Why had he used the word 'pet'? Something felt off.

"Unless you've got the fur for a really tough task," he continued. "Steal the Baron's banner from the top of the Ruined Tower and bring it back to me. Then, maybe we'll talk."

It took every ounce of self-control not to laugh. Climb the Ruined Tower in Dead Town? That was impossible! Not only would they be facing some little monsters, but the Tower crumbled under one's feet every time! I wanted to go out to Dead Town to see how they did it, but acknowledged that it would be unwise.

I heard movement outside and realized the conversation was over. I quickly and stealthily hopped back to the bed and pretended to tie up the last knot on the bandage.

Only Tess entered. "Where's Torn?" I inquired.

"Oh, out to do some recon, I expect," Tess answered.

"No," I began sarcastically. "Torn? They same Torn that sits behind his desk every day, planning suicidal missions for other poor agents to go out on while he stays back here? _That _Torn?"

"That's not very nice," Tess scolded, frowning. I was too tired to care.

"But true," I informed her.

"He works a lot, more than you or I could ever know!" she announced. Tess and Torn had grown up together, in the Slums like me. But they lived in the water Slums, and since I didn't especially enjoy swimming, I had never thought of going there much as a child. So, as good childhood friends, it was natural that they would defend each other.

"Okay, okay, sorry," I muttered, though I really wasn't. Torn had the nerve to send his recruits out on missions that they might not return from all the time, while he sat at his desk, planning procedures and making up other assignments. "I'm going to sleep. 'Night."

She nodded in recognition, but it was clear that she was mad at me. So, without further ado, I moved to the back room and found an empty apartment with two double bunks. I barely had time or cause to remove my boots and utility belt before I burrowed into the blankets and fell asleep.

I was woken in the morning by the sound of shuffling feet outside my temporary cabin. Rolling over and falling asleep again sounded so great right about then, but I knew I would have to be at the gun course soon anyway.

I sat up immediately, taking only a second to stretch. Then I stood, quickly tied up my ugly black boots and holstered the eco pistol tucked under the bed. Now that I was in the Underground, I wasn't permitted to be slow or tired anymore. I had to have my head in the game, be its top player every living second. Because if I wasn't in the game, I was out of the world. For good.

It was approximating eight o'clock – judging purely by the sky, of course – when I arrived at the gun course via zoomer the following morning. I had changed into more suitable clothes for team tag and was fumbling with a pair of red goggles as I entered the front apartment, thinking they would stay on my head if I worked with them long enough. But the fight of trying to employ them to keep the fringe out of my eyes seemed futile and pointless. There was no way it would serve as both a headband and night vision device, so I allowed the orange bangs to fall over my face.

Naturally, the goggles remained perfectly perched after that.

Suppressing a couple colourful and gratuitous curses that wished to surface, I greeted the other agents.

Tess, whom I had discovered to be an expert gun-manufacturer, was chatting with a few other agents. She turned from her comrades and beckoned me over upon spotting me in the entrance.

"Hey, Shae!" It was clear she found her rhyme amusing. She appeared to have forgotten all about our dispute the previous night.

"Hey, Tess," I greeted in return, though not as brightly as her. It was too early for that kind of tone from me.

"We were just getting into teams. I opted to put you on my team. It's a four-on-four, so I think we're with Maven and Ty."

"Great!" I said. Maven was an awesome sniper, and Ty was an old childhood friend from the Slums. He was the same age as Lex, and his sister, Amelle, was two years older. I spotted the tall, dark-haired siblings by another display of guns, separate from the larger group. I hadn't thought them to be unsociable, but it had been years since I had seen them before joining the Underground. Besides, Amelle had always been "the quiet one."

In a way, I was disappointed that their attitudes were so different from when we were kids. Everyone in my family, including myself, had changed so significantly that it hardly felt like we were the same people, that it was the same tie between us, that it was the same ground beneath our feet. And when I had discovered Amelle and Ty, the only frequents from my childhood, had changed too, it was like the ground and sky fell all over again.

"Who's on the other team?" I inquired, though I already knew the answer.

"Keele, Deron, Zededora and Amelle."

"So we're doing two guys, two girls?"

"Yep!"

"Alright," I said. I put on my game face and slid the aggravating goggles over my eyes. "Let's own these suckers."

Tess laughed, then grabbed my arm to pull me over to the bigger group, not bothering to alert Ty and Amelle. They both looked over with dark, reserved eyes, but I saw Ty quirk a half-smile. They followed Tess and me over to the assembly.

"Something wrong with your arm, kid?" Zededora remarked as I came over, light brown eyes curious. As the youngest member, most other agents had adopted the nickname "kid" for me. It got on my nerves, but I would have to live with it. The name had been assigned two years ago, and even at age sixteen, it stuck.

"Flanker sting, Dora," I replied. I was able to conceal the two on my legs by donning a pair of long pants over the hasty bandage work, but the sting on my forearm was still visible, if not only from the protruding bump under the gauntlets on my arms. "Torn thought it would be a good idea to hang out in the forest after sunset."

"Fair enough," she sighed.

"Can you shoot with that?" Keele asked.

"No problem," I told him. Keele was Maven's best friend and our second best gunner. He was going to be a tough competitor. Then again, Zededora and Deron were both better than me. Amelle, although six years older, was the only even match for me.

It was of no consequence, though. This was considered training, and it was the most fun I had on a usual day. It beat hanging out in a tree for hours by an immeasurable long shot.

"Okay, guys," Maven began, clapping his hands together. He looked about twenty-five and had long, blond hair. His eyes were a light blue, but like mine, were concealed by goggles. Upon further examination, I noted that everyone had a night-sight gadget of some sort, either goggles, binoculars or the cutting-edge contact lenses (Maven and Keele were the only two with those). It appeared we would be playing a night match

He opened his mouth to speak, but then faltered and reconsidered. "I don't really need to explain the game to you guys, right?"

"Not really," several people piped up. We were all consistent players.

"Good. Everyone got their weapon cleared?"

Most people held up their guns and nodded in response, but I had to request a check, along with Amelle and Ty. Clearing the weapons was just a standard security procedure. No one liked it, but most acted indifferent towards the gun checks. It was just to ensure that everyone was using the green tag mod, not a real shooting one. The tag mod fired a laser blast that was a harmless blend of Green and Yellow Eco. It couldn't do any damage, but did make your opponent falter.

One could also measure how many shots each person had taken by monitoring the consumption of Eco, and how many shots had been fired by how many were left in the gun. The total scores were derived from both of those factors.

While my weapon was being checked, I flicked my glance over to the other guns in the room. Most were Eco pistols and blasters, but Maven and Keele both had morph guns, that could adapt to any Eco mod with the flick of a button. The rest of us had to switch the canisters manually, a rather laborious process that took too long in a real battle. Everything was the same in the gun course, but outside, the odds of winning battles with KG and Metal Heads were decidedly in one's favour if one possessed a morph gun.

"Okay," Maven began again. He was the Underground's best gunner, and most practiced in the gun course, so it was obvious that he would be the one to instruct. "We're doing standard team tag training, in night setting. Obstacles are already set up; event timer is thirty minutes; no head shots; blah, blah, blah."

He gave us all a look that I could only interpret as pleading. "Look, can we just get to the game? You all know the procedures."

We all nodded and gave varied responses.

"Alright. Thirty second getaway?" Keele asked.

"Yeah. Get into positions," Maven ordered.

Our team lined up by the north entrance; the other team by the west. The doors opened ahead of us, revealing dark settings. My eyesight still had to adapt, but I could distinguish the outlines of the obstacles that would serve as shelters during the game.

"Thirty seconds," Keele called, and we took off into the darkness, a steady beeping counting off the seconds.

Ty and I found a good spot in the middle of the circuit. We would have a good position to advance from, hopefully without being seen too soon. Maven took the front line, and Tess set up a sniping position around the first corner.

Ty crouched behind a large wall-like obstacle. "Ready?" he whispered. He was hard to perceive in the darkness, his dark skin and hair amalgamating with the lack of lighting in the chamber. If it weren't for the goggles, I wouldn't have been able to see him at all.

I cocked my Eco pistol as the beeping accelerated and abruptly ceased, signifying the end of the allotted time. "Game on."

**

* * *

Review are encouraged and asked for. Other than that, peace out!**

**~Fishyicon / Genesis Turtle (yes, I have one of those nicknames too)  
**


	9. Suspicions

**A/N: Hello again! As always, huge thanks goes out to all you reviewers and readers, especially "Princessofallasains." Welcome to the club! Which club, I don't know. Just a saying, people.**

**Okay, the moment **_**someone**_** has been pestering me about (ahem . . . short buddy . . .) has finally arrived. Yes, Jak is finally going to enter the story. I was hoping to postpone his entrance for a while, since I really don't want this story to make the original plot stray too much – I want it to stand pretty much on its own. That said, I do need to alter the main plot a tiny bit to get Jak and Shae to meet a couple times. But none of this Jak/OC nonsense. I don't work like that. I suppose I should apologize to Jak, because instead of sending Shae on a mission with him, I made up a whole new set of torturous events to make them miserable! Sorry, Jak. And sorry, Shae, but I don't think she sees as much action as him.**

**So, in case you didn't catch that, thanks to _LeiaOrganicSolo_ for harassing me in every PM she's sent me recently to get this next chapter out. Short buddy, I had to cut Jak's part short, but the next chapter will have the Dynamic Duo's part in full, I promise.  
**

**Thanks also to my forever faithful beta-reader, EcoSeeker247, for editing and pointing out my almost venture towards Mary Sue territory. I fixed it, I promise!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jak and Daxter. I mean, I own all of the games (but Jak X – stupid glitch) but I don't have rights over them or anything… that would be the Naughty Dog we all know and love. Except for two things. Do you know what they are? 1) Jak and Ashelin, and 2) Everything about The Lost Frontier but Phoenix – because he's just that epic.**

* * *

Part 2: Chapter 9: Suspicions

The entire gun course, normally buzzing with action, was silent. All the agents in here were experts at remaining incognito, including me. The only movement I could detect was that of Ty shifting his posture slightly. He gave me a quick nod, one that I was able to interpret immediately. Ty and I were usually on the same team, so we knew each other's tactics and preferred approaches.

I extended my arm just past the obstacle I hid behind and fire a test shot. It had to be me or Ty, and as I was closest to the outside, it would be inconvenient for Ty to shoot over me. Tess was our sniper, so she couldn't give away her position, and Maven was too valuable a player to give away his.

The trick was to draw enemy fire without revealing one's position. So, firing an experimental shot could do one of two things: prompt the other mid-players to begin shooting their shots if they were around the next corner, or inform them only of our position. Either way, it would draw fire and begin the game.

The outcome ended up being the former. Two heads popped up from a different barrier on the other end of the stretch of hall. Zededora and Amelle began shooting an array of coloured charges at me and Ty. We returned the fire, administering several accurate shots but receiving just as many. As we caused chaos in the middle of the square-shaped gun course, Maven advanced along the wall towards the other end of the pass.

We eventually drew out Deron, too, and Tess took her chance to get in a few good shots. Maven was still looking for Keele somewhere on the other end, but we were content with three-on-three for the time being. As soon as those two came out of hiding, the real game would begin. Everyone would be moving around, trying to find better shooting points, better defences.

About fifteen minutes in, something began to happen. My vision became blurry, my hearing dull. It was as if someone had shot some sort of anaesthetic into me, and it was slowly targeting my nerves and senses. I couldn't shoot or hide well, and consequently, I became an easier target. Although the tag blasts weren't harmful, being a composite of yellow Eco for firing but mostly Green, I had soon undertaken too many to be nontoxic. I crawled behind the nearest obstacle and assessed my vision and hearing, holding up fingers in front of my face, counting the gunshots near me.

All my results were off. I couldn't distinguish between my fingers unless they were right up against my face, and the number of flashes did not add up to the number of gunshots I could detect. Yanking of the goggles and removing the hair form over my ears did nothing to improve my awareness.

Eventually Tess noticed my distress and crawled up next to me. When she asked if I was fine, I replied that I had simply hit my head on something and that my lack of vision was the stars flashing in front of my eye (which wasn't entirely dishonest). There was a constant flashing but I reckoned it was the Eco blasts and not my temporarily distorted equilibrium. With a tentative nod, she moved to return to her firing point. She was held back, however, by Maven returning to our team's claimed vicinity.

"I can't find Keele," he said. Tess and I exchanged questioning glances before returning our eyes to the team's unofficial leader.

"That means he's hiding," Tess explained. Her eyes drifted back to the battlefield where Ty was holding his own against his sister and her two teammates. "Hey, do you think Ty –"

"No, he's honestly not on the course," Maven protested, but Tess was readying her gun again to go help Ty. Maven sighed and looked at me, sitting a few feet back, squinting to try and discern him from the dark background. "Everything okay?"

It was becoming a bother to have everyone asking how I was feeling every way I turned. But as the youngest, always the youngest, I should have been accustomed to it by now. "Fine," I lied.

"You're such a bad liar," he laughed. Again, something I should have been in the habit of hearing, but it was still one of the most annoying things to listen to, despite the fact that it was true. "You believe me, right?" he added as an afterthought.

My developed hearing was proving helpful in my handicapped situation, as I could still put his jumbled words together in comprehensible chunks. "Sure," I assured. Clearing my thoughts as best I could, I tried to ground out a question as I preoccupied my hands with the task of readjusting the ugly red goggles. "What do we do?"

"Dunno," he replied. He attempted to evaluate our situation in a way that would allow him to formulate a plan, but the best he could come up with was calling, "Tess!"

She scurried back to us. It was not a huge feat, since she had not found a good opening to get back to her sniping spot. I saw her approach in an indistinct blur of blond hair and colourful clothing, the bright shades muted by the darkness of the room, the red screen of the glasses.

"I'm confident Keele is _not_ here," he declared. "What do we do?"

"Check again," she advised, "And let Shae come with me to help Ty."

We were all on separate pages. Maven wanted us to help him search for his best friend, who had supposedly gone missing in a sealed-off room; Tess wanted us to get back out on the field and assist Ty, who was still ridiculously outnumbered, three older agents against one; I wanted them both to leave me alone so I could try to discover what was making me feel so ill. The odd feeling had sunk down to my stomach, making me want to throw up.

What happened next was completely unanticipated. As with clichés in stories, everything seemed to happen at once, all the events fading in to one instantaneous occurrence.

The lights, though already dimmed, shut off entirely, leaving us all in pitch black chaos. All action and sound ceased as everyone prepared for what would happen next, trained instincts kicking in. In the midst of the silence, there was one gunshot. Someone – one of the boys – screamed, but my typically advanced sense of hearing was still weakened, so I could not tell whom. The sudden burst of unconventional noise elicited sounds of panic and fright from a few others as well, including me.

Tess was the first one to react. "Get the lights!" she ordered. My sense of touch had not been damaged, so I felt someone near me, Maven, stand and move towards the lights. Knowing the course had its advantages, so he knew exactly where to find the emergency light switch. It took a moment for our eyes to adapt to the abrupt change in atmosphere.

Amelle was the first to notice what was happening with a chocked cry of her own. Tess and Maven seemed to pick up on what was happening too, running over to meet the others, leaving me to fend for myself as I tried to coax my own senses into working properly. My eyes adjusted eventually and I saw what all the confusion was over from where I sat.

From what I could make out, everyone – save Keele – was crowded around Ty, who lay injured on the floor, a sickening pool of blood expanding slowly around his leg. One of my teammates – probably his sister, Amelle – propped his head against the wooden obstacle that had offered him protection through the entire battle. I was overcome with the immediate desire to go over and investigate further, but it was silenced by an instinctive reaction to save myself.

"Get down!" I shouted just as another gun blast rang through the room, finding its home precariously close to me. My survival instincts had kicked in, and my eyesight and hearing had improved considerably. There were several other shots, but everyone had crouched behind obstacles, hands clenched over heads that peeked out from behind the barriers unintentionally.

All attempts at our lives ceased with the click of an empty barrel. I risked a look out at the frightening scene, as did a couple others on the adjacent side of the room. My head came up just in time to watch a familiar, tall man with brown hair and pale skin (standard for Haven City, where the sun did not penetrate the polluted cloud layer) throw his gun – switched to the incredibly harmful Blue Eco Vulcan mod – down disconcertedly.

The man shouted something defiantly, in a voice that could be no other than Keele's, interpretable even through the odd buzzing in my ears. "Long live Baron Praxis!" A motto I had heard only too many times working in the KG. My eyes had begun to cloud again, but my hearing was still sharp enough to detect the quick, deliberate footsteps out the door.

This time, Deron took command. "Maven, Dora, go after 'im!" he ordered. Zededora stood to leave immediately, but Maven was still very distressed by the betrayal of his best friend. Zededora helped him to his feet, but his thoughts were still elsewhere.

Deron gave Maven a kick in the shin from where he sat over Ty on the floor. "Hey, go get 'im before he can get the info to someone! If he's been spyin' for a year, no tellin' what sort o' secrets he's picked up on!"

Maven shot his gaze between Deron, the door and the ground. "Go get him and do what?" he asked hopelessly. Is this what happened to people who lost their best friends?

"Talk some sense into 'im, _beat_ some sense into 'im, and kill 'im if ya have to!" Deron directed. Maven cringed at the last instruction. "Just stop 'im from gettin' out info about the Underground, would ya?"

Zededora had to drag our troubled team leader the first few steps before he finished wrestling with his emotions and followed her out the door, sprinting.

One crisis averted, we moved on to handle the injured Ty.

"Ty, are you there?" Amelle asked, trying to get a reaction from him as I crawled over to the four remaining agents. Ty groaned and mumbled something unintelligible to my ears in response.

"I don't know, Ty," Amelle replied, answering some unheard question. "Don't worry, baby brother; we'll get him back for it."

Ty ground out something else, this time sounding irritated at his sister's degrading nickname. She laughed. "Always will be, Ty."

The sick, salty smell of blood reached my nose, and I was glad, for once, that my eyes weren't working well. The scent was enough to repulse me, thank you.

"What are we going to do?" I asked.

"We have to get him to the hospital," Amelle said.

"No hospital," Ty grumbled, louder and somewhat more comprehensibly this time.

Amelle shot him a look. "Shut up! Don't try to act like you're fine."

"We better go soon," added Deron, facing away from Ty. "A shot through the leg won't have 'im lasting long."

Tess nodded. All movement was becoming more and more indistinguishable through the implacable haze. "I can get something to carry him on from the bar," she offered. "But we'll need three of us to carry him."

"Shae, can you run ahead to the hospital and let them know we're coming?" Amelle requested.

"I… uh…" I stammered. The hospital was much to public a place for me to go. I knew Ty was the one dying, but I didn't want to be somewhere public and still under the Baron's rule. "I don't think so."

I didn't want to go. I _couldn't_ go. Even though Ty was my friend, it was too risky for me to go to the hospital, even disregarding my current state. Was helping him more important than my immediate and future safety?

As selfish as it was, no. I may have worked on a team, but over the last few years, I had learned the hard way that the person that really needed protecting was me. And the other three were strong. They would be able to handle it without me.

"What?" Tess asked. "Why not?"

It took courage to say the next words. "I shouldn't go. It's too dangerous for me! I could be recognized!"

Apparently, this was the last straw for Tess.

"Damn it, Shae, it's dangerous for all of us! You're no the only one that would get in trouble if you were caught! But as Underground agents, we have to be willing to work together. How are we going to win this war if we don't work together?"

I was too stunned to speak. Even Deron and Amelle had turned away from our injured comrade to hang on to Tess's outburst.

"The point is, if one of us doesn't risk our life, Ty is going to lose his!" she screamed.

I was at a total loss of words. The only thing I could think to say between all the confusion, stress and nauseating haze was, "I'm sorry, Ty."

Faced with three disproving faces, I did what was probably the worst possible thing to do in such a situation. I relied on my standard fall-back and ran, not having the courage or sensibility to look back.

And it wasn't withdrawal, either. Well, it was partly that. But more overpowering was the sick feeling in my stomach derived from the over-exposure to Eco after getting shot too many times and the automatic reaction to not be in the same place where blood had recently been spilt. Before clearing my thoughts, my stomach had the desire to clear itself. I hadn't eaten since the previous evening, and even that had been somewhat insubstantial, if even entirely well-cooked; another possible factor in my sudden onset of nausea. Still I managed to empty whatever food was left into the already vile Port water.

After that humiliating episode, I had the desire to find something to drink, to clear my mouth of the foul taste of vomit. But more imperative was the desire – and need – to get out of the Port. I limped and clutched my Flanker stings as I walked, each step sending a new wave of blinding pain up the ones in my legs.

That's when it dawned on me. That green poison that had leaked from the punctures; it had to be the reason I was feeling so ill! If the venom had made its way to my nerves overnight, it would explain the impairment of sight and hearing.

But how to draw it out? I dug into my virtually non-existent knowledge of medical remedies that did not involve intensive care. If I was not willing to escort a friend to the hospital by risk of being identified, there was no way in Haven I would be going there voluntarily to receive care myself.

I had to mentally slap myself. If I had just told Tess that I couldn't help them due to my injuries, we could have avoided the entire uncomfortable argument. And one of them might have been able to help me find a treatment for the Metal Head poison. Because if I knew one thing about Metal Head inflicted injuries, it was that they didn't heal on their own. And if they were not treated, they could be as deadly or at least as dangerous as high-class Eco poisoning.

I had a sudden recollection of my mother doing something to a vegetable. It contained a sour juice that was repugnant to the taste, so she would pierce a hole in the top and drown it in salt water for an hour to draw out the bitter liquid. If that could purge the putrid substance from a piece of food, maybe it could do the same for me.

Then, of course, I was faced by the problem that there was no salt water in the city. All the water sources in the Port, Water Slums and Main Town canal were fresh water, although polluted past the point of being potable. The only salt water access I could reach was from the ocean surrounding the city walls from the outside. The water in Dead Town was corrupted, but the Pumping Station would have clean access. Difficult to attain, yes, but not impossible.

Not to mention the fact that leaving the city was forbidden to all citizens. It was no doubt just the Baron trying to pass new laws that everyone would have to abide by, just because he wanted to make a show of power. If it were merely that, I would be out of the city on a regular basis, and not just on the occasional missions for Torn. I was a rebel through and through, part of the rebellion or not. But there were also the Metal Heads to contend with, nothing to hold them back outside Haven's protective boundaries.

My need to survive weighed out higher ultimately, and I took the nearest zoomer – it paid to be sixteen and legally permitted to drive one now – out to the Water Slums, in which there was the only access to the Pumping Station. I passed through the airlock and, swallowing a lump of body tremor-inducing fear, stepped out into the cool air of the only place in Haven where I could touch clean water.

I took a minute to gaze around in awe. Torn had sent me here in the past, these missions being the more suicidal. But every time, my mindset had been to get in, do the job, and get out. I never been given the cause or means to marvel at how green this place was – cool, sea air flowing off the waves, wiping the sweat from the fever off my face, windmills once used as power sources still turning, shrubbery still green.

Then, of course, I heard the low growling of a nearby Metal Head. That snapped me out of my reverie and sent me flying over to the shoreline. I did, however, take care to move around the curve of the beach, ensure I wouldn't come in contact with some stray drops of waste from near the Shield Wall.

As I trotted over to the waterline, I noted absently that there were pieces of debris scattered on the sand, masses of shrapnel from something. A tank, maybe? There were several tanks in the Pumping Station, long emptied of any substance. But my eyesight still wasn't strong enough to discern any missing portions of the metal landscape, built against two large pillars of stone, pipes curling around above the platforms that were no doubt infested with Metal Heads I didn't intend to meet.

I strained my ears to try to detect any Metal Heads wandering too-close-for-comfort, but I eventually reassured myself with the theoretical knowledge that they wouldn't be drifting so close to the city defences unless they were in large numbers. I would have been able to hear something if that were the case, so I knelt down on my knees and crawled the final distance to the water.

Removing the bandages on my knee, thigh and forearm was another feat altogether. The green ooze I had decided to name poison had plastered the cloth to my skin. Through a very painful process of cutting the protective layer with a knife – I always kept one in possession for just such unlikely occasions – and wrenching them from my skin with fumbling fingers, I finally arrived at the point where I could submerge my limbs, clean of any coverage, into salt water.

I placed a tentative, unwounded hand in first, probing for any hidden dangers. Then I slid the rest of my forearm under the water, needing to wade in further to prevent my posture from becoming too wobbly or awkward. My pants were already cuffed above my thighs, but I removed my jacket and tossed it to shore, not wanting to deal with wet sleeves as I used my free arm to aid my injured body.

The relief was practically instantaneous. It was painful at first – excruciatingly so – as the salt water touched the sore, raw skin and inflamed it. I was beginning to have second thoughts, but then the pain subsided gradually with a feeling of drawing out, just like the effect on the vegetable my mother had used. The area around the sting became numb instead of agonizing, and my vision and hearing even seemed to improve, if only slightly. My eye and earshot amplified. Through my clearer eyes, I could see the poison leeching into the water. I looked away after that as the scene was too disgusting to observe.

After flushing out the other two injuries, I decided to move back towards shore and sat down in the subtle waves, feeling the cool, wholesome water lap over my feet, legs, waist. I cupped my hands, dipped them in, and lifted some water up to my face, washing it of any grime that may have collected over the last few days. I didn't dare drinking any, though, as it was salt water and would not be friendly to the taste or to my throat's well-being in the long-run. After a few minutes of this, I decided it best not to return to the city dressed in wet attire, and hoisted myself up to the sand to dry off.

I sat at first, facing the bay, trying my best to ignore the looming, industrial walls behind it and all they implied. But my pleasant thoughts persisted to be interrupted by the feeling that I should be returning soon. I tried facing the Pumping Station, but the silhouettes of Metal Heads were becoming more and more defined, which made them more unnerving. Looking to my right showed the remains and foundations of Dead Town, a memory so painful I had to turn all the way around to stop thinking about it. That left me facing the distant, snow-capped mountains. Which I was content with watching for the next ten minutes.

The sounds of gunshots and feral Metal Head cries drifted into my semi-consciousness at some point, but they were so far off I was able to ignore them. As I sat, the air turn cold, so I pulled my jacket on over my arms.

The mountains looked so free, so welcoming. I wanted to go to them. Commandeer one of the new, high-power Hellcats and fly it over the city walls. Pack some supplies and never come back. Perhaps I would find a colony of Marauders up in those ice lands, or an entirely new city on the other side, one that knew nothing of our existence. I could integrate myself into that city, make a life for myself and never come back. Simply disappear off the face of the map. Summoning my long-dormant imagination, I pictured a red-headed teenager in a snowsuit and gloves with good grip ascending a steep, rocky face with some sort of equipment she had spotted in a KG storeroom once upon a time. She would arrive at the other side, claiming she had descended from a Marauder stronghold in the mountains (surely such things existed). They would welcome her. She would start a new life, forgetting about the trials she had faced growing up.

I was so deep in my daydream that by the time the bloodthirsty growl registered, it was too late. My head snapped around reflexively, but it only worsened the blow, if anything. A long, pronged stick caught me in the side, infusing me with an electric shock of Red Eco. If I didn't have minor Eco poisoning before, I was sure to now.

Moving on instinct, I spun my legs around, clamped the weapon between them and threw it out of the Metal Head's reach. But the Eco still buzzed through my body, and I could do nothing to block the sharp claws that swung at me next but duck and hope they missed me. Metal Heads didn't need weapons to win a fight; most were poorly manufactured anyway. They could win by sheer force – and by the fact that they were adaptively equipped with claws, fangs, and tough hides for protection. Even when I got in a clean shot, the switchblade could not make a dent in it, and my gun was still on the tag mod.

I was in better shape than earlier, but the battle raged on to a point that my endurance could not hold out. The Metal Head pinned me to the ground, teeth perilously close, ready to deliver a deathblow. I screamed in fear, unable to stop myself. It was a bit ironic that a Metal Head was going to be the cause of my death, after how many times I survived encounters with Krimzon Guards, survived starvation against all odds, survived going on a race track at only fourteen.

A gunshot fired and I wondered for a moment if the adrenaline was preventing me from feeling it, and how long that would last if it was the case. But then the Metal Head became limp, crushing me now that it was no longer supporting its own weight. Summoning any last bit of strength I could muster, I tossed the monster off me before it returned to its Dark Eco form, splattering me with blood and toxicity. All living organisms were composed of some Eco, so most returned to that form when their time was up. Not elves, clearly; mostly creatures borne of Dark Eco.

My eyes automatically searched the area for the firearm that had eliminated the Metal Head. Then I saw it, up on one of the platforms leading to the central pumping unit, its owner crouching behind one of the portions of the broken cylinder.

I tried to step forward, but instantly noticed the red targeting laser still training on my chest. Completely perplexed but not wanting to allow my saviour to shoot me because of my recklessness, my arms found their way above my head in a gesture of surrender. The figure emerged from behind the makeshift metal barrier, guard lowered but gun nevertheless directed at me, the owner with much better bearings and aim than I could ever hope for; the target never once wavered. He began to descend the nearby steps, and as he approached me cautiously, I was able to get a clear observation of him.

He wore about the same things as the rest of us: layered clothing to protect against the cold; tough gloves and boots to withstand harsh conditions and enemies. A long mat of unruly yellow hair was held back by a pair of targeting goggles of a much better make than mine. His blue eyes were piercing, dangerous and especially dark, both in colour and in the tone they emitted. There was something familiar about him, and yet his appearance was so unique that I would have remembered it.

It wasn't until an orange rat popped out from behind his shoulder that the pieces came together.

Blue eyes, marvelling and frightened. Tanned skin, straight from a nonexistent sunny beachside city. Orange rat, running away with the desperate promise that he would come back to save him. . . .

The best I could do at that point was hope I could make a speedy getaway and never see this man – Jak, if I recalled – again.

"Yeah, that's right, hands where we can see 'em, Ginger!" scorned the rat, in the same high pitch I remembered from two years ago. In spite of my petrifying terror, I grimaced indignantly at my new moniker. I didn't have freckles, at any rate. I thought not . . . but it had been far too long since I had seen a mirror. They were scarce even in my house.

"Whose side are you on?" demanded Jak, in a rough, authoritative voice. This would have been the ideal time to snap something snarky, but I doubted even the honest words would come out of my mouth, let alone something sarcastic.

"Well, I'm not with the KG, if that's what you're thinking," I replied. My voice was rough and unsure. Hopefully, the pair would mistake my apparent dread for fear of them or shock, instead of the true fear of me being recognized.

"Then whose?" His expression never once faltered, although the rat was snickering at something.

I couldn't tell him about the Underground, but I had to say something. "I'm firmly against the KG and Baron Praxis. That's all you need to know."

That seemed to unwind his temper a little. "You okay?" he asked.

Something snapped inside me, and I shouted the next words. "I'm fine, you stupid, concerned moron!" It wasn't until after I had let the words out that I remembered that my anger was directed at those who always asked if I was feeling okay, not Jak who was simply trying to be helpful.

Jak looked taken aback for a second, then angrier than before. The orange rat yelled something sardonic and uncouth, but I was distracted by the shadow of a Metal Head creeping up behind them, gun cocked, fangs bared, unbreakable golden skull – for which Metal Heads were named – glowing.

Slowly as not to alarm the pair, I reached for my switchblade. Jak caught the movement and brought his gun back up, coldly furious and ready to kill. This was not the best first impression I had ever given. . . .

"Don't try it," he growled. "You'll be dead before it can find its mark."

"We'll all be dead if you don't duck right now," I informed him quietly. Jak was still wary, but the rat looked behind them and screamed. Jak complied with my direction and crouched down, just in time to miss my knife that whizzed over them and buried itself in the monster's neck. It fell to the ground and joined its ally in Dark Eco form.

"Look, we're even now," I pointed out. Jak, who had taken no time whatsoever to recover from the shock, nodded slowly, eyes still fuming with anger, and . . . did I imagine it? Or were they actually a few shades darker than before?

"Good shot," was all he muttered.

Frankly, I was as surprised as he appeared to be at my aim. Perhaps speaking to Torn about swapping my less-than-effective pistol for another knife like his own wouldn't be such a dismissible idea. If Torn would even speak to me anymore. . . .

I could not understand why the orange rodent was still screaming in terror. Then I saw it: a whole horde of Metal Heads of all shapes and sizes, all wielding weapons, mostly just their razor-sharp claws. There were hundreds of them, which meant thousands of teeth. I had never seen so many Metal Heads assembled at once before that moment. And it looked like that moment was not going to last long.

They had us surrounded, crowding the beach and advancing in an erratic formation; there was no way to get back to the door safely. The water covered our only escape route, and entering that would result in an immediate shot from a KG defence robot, programmed to exterminate anyone caught trying to escape from the city via the ocean. The only way we could go was back into the Pumping Station, where more dangers no doubt awaited us, this time in a convoluted terrain that would be to a large extent more difficult to navigate.

I risked a glance over at Jak, who was already rear stepping towards a path that would lead straight to the center of the Pumping Station. Then I recalled something. Something Jak would overlook, something the Metal Heads would never be able to follow us to, something I had learned after hours of studying maps under Torn's orders, despite my many ignored protests and complaints. If we could make it to the northernmost end of the Pumping Station, to where it blended into the mountains . . .

"Follow me," I whispered in a tone that meant he had no choice but to do exactly that. Why I was saving him, I didn't know. I felt as if I owed him, somehow.

"Like hell," Jak replied. I resented that comment.

"Got a better plan, genius?" I spat. "I know a way to get us out of this mess. But you've got to do exactly as I say." It was a long shot, but I figured I would give it a try.

"I'll follow you out. No promises after that," he offered angrily. I nodded, suspecting that was the best I could hope for from Jak. I dashed under a large pipe to my left, hearing Jak's deft but always cautious footsteps echoing mine. I snatched up my knife as I hurdled over the collection of Dark Eco on the ground, which now had a fine veneer of coagulated black blood.

I knew the Pumping Station well enough. Add that to an acute sense of direction and keen, Metal Head avoiding instincts, and we arrived at the other side of the Pumping Station with minimal creature encounters – me using my knife to disarm the closer targets, Jak shooting the more distant ones with his upmarket morph gun. We hurdled over pipes and rocks, climbed up pieces of machinery, balanced over stepping stones that quite clearly weren't meant to be for stepping on, scrambled over rock piles. He was fast too, even with a rodent on his shoulder, and as result of our cooperative speed, we reached the rocky beach without any Metal Heads in direct pursuit. I exploited the luxurious spare time to explain my plan to Jak. He listened carefully, hanging on to my hastened words, all prejudice set aside. That went for both of us, actually.

I finished my explanation just as we heard the Metal Head ambush cresting the cliff above us.

"Think you can handle it?" I asked contemptuously.

Jak gave me a fierce, determined expression. "Let's do this."

I ignored the glance he shot his companion, one that evidently said, "I can always kill her after I know we're safe." Wonderful.

"All right!" I said animatedly, clasping my hands together in mock-anticipation. "Let's go blow something up!"

**

* * *

The reason for the last line: I turned on the TV on day, and it was on Discovery. The last of the commercial that was playing said exactly this: "Let's blow something up!" So, obviously, I HAD to find a way to integrate it into the story. It took me about five chapters, but I finally found its place.**

**So, coments, criticisms, praise, flames? Anything you'd like to throw at me, I'm ready.**

**Peace.**


	10. Unadulterated Loathing

**A/N: Much thanks to every single one of you who has read this, reviewer or not. It is gratifying to see that someone is enjoying the things I come up in the middle of Geography class, but I do write for myself. Hence why most of this is written in Geography. Catch my drift?**

**LeiaOrganicSolo, EcoSeeker247, Caylyn, Princessofallayains, Unohoo, Camp Chess Friend, Blood Spirit and Faithless Reject. My heart goes out to you, as does this chapter. Thank you for taking the time from your busy lives to review my ramblings.**

**One quick thing: I realize I've been stuffing with the general timeline and geography of Jak 2. I suppose this could be slightly AU, but most other things fit. Then again, this is FanFiction. If everything fit to a T, nothing would be fun to read!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter." Naughty Dog does!**

Part Two: Chapter 10: Unadulterated Loathing

Someone who claims to be much better than everyone else is annoying. Someone who can actually do everything he claims with as much grace and skill as they claim is even more so.

It was, therefore, no wonder as to how I was slowly getting more and more unhinged by Jak. He was unintentionally targeting nerves I didn't even know I had. Sooner or later, I knew there would be something, maybe just one word that would dissolve my quiet dissimulation.

The fact that I was going to have to spend the night in a cave with him was not helping strengthen my resolve to remain calm. I was curled up underneath a small ledge by the opening, as far from him as possible. The rat (who had impolitely informed me that he was an ottsel named Daxter, not a rat with no proper label) lay slumped over Jak's shoulder, fast asleep. Jak himself was facing deeper into the cave, on watch for any enemies. The unnerving element was the fact that our adversaries were more likely to come from the cave than the outside. With that in mind, I flipped to face the wall and hugged my arms around my body even tighter.

It did not take me an exceptionally long time to establish sleep would not come easy that night. The feeling of resentment between me and Jak was mutual, and he was the more vicious of us. I tilted my head to make sure he was not sharpening a knife or reloading his gun. Satisfied that he was not going to kill me at any point in the immediate future—mind you, the rest of the night was a different story entirely—I closed my eyes and readjusted myself once more. The fabric of my clothes scratched against the rough stone.

There was an old trick for getting to bed. Like many other skills and secrets, it had been taught to me by none other than my oldest brother. But that was of no consequence. You close your eyes and picture black. Then darker black. Unfortunately, the waning lighting was such that it was hard to distinguish between open eyes and closed ones. And darkening colours were like those of Jak's eyes.

Hissing in frustration, I searched my memories for another strategy to ward off insomnia. Jak let out a low chuckle from the opposite end of the rocky section of the cave, like as not assuming I could not hear him. He was not the only one with magnified hearing sensitivity. I informed him coldly of that point.

"Just shut up and go to sleep," he said.

"Why, so you can kill me?" I asked.

Jak growled in his animal way. "I don't need you to be asleep for that."

"Try it, and we'll see." The death-threats had not been forgotten, and I doubt they would be anytime soon. As cocky as my attitude was, I still waited out a solid ten minutes of silence and stillness before resigning to sleeping again. Perhaps the problem was that I was anticipating the following day too much. Thinking of past events would be better. But since my mind wanted to live in the here and now, I had to settle with replaying the earlier adventures leading up to the cave shelter.

"I don't suppose you have enough ammo to get all of there guys, do you?" I asked Jak as we backed up towards the cliff. My plan had been to fall back to the beach and cross to the mining island. But someone had removed the bridge between the two areas, leaving us on a rapidly shrinking beach front. The Metal Heads were slowly finding ways to descend the rock face.

"Only if you could take the other half," Jak replied.

I shook my head subtly. I only had one knife, and could hit the target one time out of five on average. "I could probably take out three or four . . ." I offered.

"No good. We'll need to get out."

"Whatd'ya mean, 'get out'?" the ottsel quipped loudly. "There ain't nothin' but sand and water!"

"Swimming's out of the question," I remarked. "The water's guarded with some bot. Can't get in past your waist without getting shot."

"Then what do you propose we do, Plan Girl?" Jak inquired.

"I . . . I, uh . . . I don't know!" I exclaimed as a Metal Head as big as me hopped off the cliff and landed heavily on the beach in front of us. Jak quickly shot it down, but more were beginning to catch on. "Your turn to think of a plan!"

"Would you two stop freaking out?" Daxter yelled. Jak cringed as the high sound reached his ears. My attention was pulled back to the invaders with the brisk arrival of four quadrupedal gunners. Knife too valuable to waste by throwing, I unsheathed my weak Eco pistol and began firing.

"I could use a little help here!" I called to no response. I tried again, not daring to look away from the targets. "Hello?" No answer. "Jak!"

"Over here!" he acknowledged finally, but his voice was much farther than before. I turned around out of curiosity.

Bad move in hindsight. As my eyes focused in on Jak and the ottsel, something sharp caught me in the back, digging its claws into the skin. I cried out in pain, but managed to struggle away and towards the far end of the beach.

"Duck if you value your life!" Jak ordered, quoting from earlier. I eagerly complied, and his yellow blast found home somewhere behind me. Path clear, I forced myself to my feet and rushed over. Jak was standing at the edge of the water, looking at a small patch of land between this island and the next. I probed my back for injuries but deduced the minor amount of blood was no cause for alarm.

"Jak, you know water makes my fur all frizzy," whined the ottsel.

"Then we won't get wet," said Jak, a sly smile pulling at his mouth. It was then that I noticed the thin pipe that stretched from our beach to the land patch and from there to the mining island.

"You can't be serious," I implored.

Jak grinned a crooked smile. "Watch me."

And he hopped up onto the beam.

I expected him to fall. Lose his balance, teeter to one side and tumble into the water, not sparing enough time to swim back to shore before receiving an Eco blast through the chest. Instead, he ground down the pipe with just his boots, landing deftly on the miniscule shred of rock. My jaw hung open in bewilderment, snapping closed only when the resounding noise of gunfire registered in my peripheral hearing.

"How the . . ." I began.

"Let's go!" Jak shouted. Nodding tentatively, I inched over to the pipe, placing one foot on the bar and extending my arms for balance. Confident that I could last a bear minimum of five seconds without falling, I lifted my other booted foot and planted it on the beam behind the other. Gradually I began to slide forward, silently lecturing myself all the way about not looking down. I considered standing straighter to proceed slightly faster, but was too nervous to risk it.

"Sometime today would be nice, Ginger!" called the ottsel suddenly. I lost my equilibrium for a split second, but that was all it took. My weight teetered back and forth precariously and my arms flailed around clumsily, searching for hold. Before my knees buckled, I threw myself forward and slammed my hands into the bar, quickly wrapping my arms around it for stability.

Finding myself in an awkward position, it naturally took a second for rational thoughts to come back and encourage me to continue my descent. I folded my legs tightly around the beam and slid down on my stomach the remaining distance to the shred of land.

Jak smirked as I stood and brushed the grime off my clothes. Despite the fact that I should have been immensely relieved to be rid of the Metal Head scourge, I found it in myself to scowl in disdain.

"I'm sorry, who said we couldn't cross that?" inquired the smug ottsel.

I smacked the orange creature perched upon Jak's shoulder upside the head, narrowly missing the blond. "I did, jerk."

Without warning, strong hands slammed into my shoulders and shoved me back, causing me to stumble and collapse backwards, catching my form on my elbows rather painfully.

"Hey, watch it!" I yelled. Jak simply glared at me, his eyes darkening marginally once again.

"You watch it," he growled menacingly, and took off to the other side, alternating between bounding and stepping with a light tread along the opposite beam. He launched himself into a front flip for a dismount, leaving me flabbergasted as ever, unable to pull myself together.

I hugged the pipe and crawled up again.

When I arrived at the other side, Jak's lips were twisted into a cocky grin, eyes directed at me.

"If you get cocky, you lose," I reminded him.

"I think I'll be alright," he said bluntly. I shrugged and advanced further into the dark cave. Jak followed.

"I never did get your name," Jak stated a few minutes in. The question initially struck me as odd, but then I remembered that I had known his name from the beginning, while he had been going uninformed. No wonder he called me "Plan Girl."

"It's Shae," I announced. It was a moment before I deliberated lying and using a fake label. But how would I have been able to pull that off? The first time he used the false appellation, I would correct him instinctively. Besides; it wasn't as though the name would lead him anywhere. It was a fairly common surname in Haven City.

"You can call me Orange Lighting!" the ottsel claimed. I nodded sarcastically. 'Rat' sounded perfectly adequate on my mental tongue.

"Or Daxter," Jak muttered. "I'm Jak."

"I know, smart one," I shot blatantly.

Then quietly cursed myself orally, not having realized there was a downside to quick-thinking. This was when things got marginally more interesting.

"What do you mean, 'you know'?" Jak questioned suspiciously. I was in for it now.

_Think, think! _I chided mentally. If there were ever a time to lie, it was that moment there.

"I . . . I, uh, heard it being tossed around the Underground," I tried. The moment the words were out in the open, I knew how pathetic and unconvincing they were.

Jak accelerated to fall into place with me, castigating me with an unimpressed glare. "Think you can do a little better than that?"

I scowled, but complied. "I heard the rat call you that."

The glower intensified. "One more try."

I sighed. There was no easy escape in this situation. "That's the best I can do," I resigned.

That was as far as I made it in the conscious part of my mind before sleep seemed like too much a good idea. The remainder of the events required a quick mental reminder in the morning at any rate, and this was roughly what I could recall:

Needless to say, things had not escalated in our relationship since then.

We had continued in uncomfortable silence a few moments more before arriving at the other end of the tunnel-cave, right next to the KG mining base, as I had presumed. However, there were no bombs readily at our disposal, as the last transport had already departed. The next would be back in the early morning. Since none of us were extremely keen on descending to the mining caves and raiding the stores with the slim hopes of finding something useful and explosive, we agreed to wait until the morning.

And so, there we were, concealed from normal view of the guards below us. Jak and I were both inherently adept at being quiet, but the rat on Jak's shoulder which I still refused to call by any other name—well, not so much.

"Ugh," he whined glumly. It was more of a moan, actually. "Couldn't you two _geniuses_ have found an _easier_ plan for us to follow? One that preferably doesn't involve us likely getting our tails whipped by an entire _legion_ of KG? Come on, tall-dark-and-gruesome! Think of something. . . ."

I tuned out the rodent's aggravating tirade and focused on the sky. Within moments, the red KG vessel—presumably laden with the latest consignment of gun-dispatched explosive charges—materialized out of the blue.

I shushed the boys and indicated the transport. The moment we needed was close at hand. If my assumption was correct, they would unload the shipment on the landing platform, then proceed down the mining shafts to acquire some wheeled conveyer machine to bring the bombs the rest of the way. That was our window for grabbing them.

Jak nudged my shoulder with the back of his hand. I grunted in acknowledgement, but kept my eyes firmly fixated on the cargo. "What?"

"We really could've thought of a better plan than this."

I gave him a disbelieving look, unwilling to let that non-existent smile of his pull any harder at that mouth. Like many other disdainful expressions I had sported lately, it was not forced. "You're right. Let's just abandon the plan now, hope we're not seen heading back to the cave and make up a new one!" I whispered harshly.

"I'm just sayin'," Jak resigned as he moved his expression back to one I was much more confident would help us get out sooner.

"Well, you'd _both_ be doing me a favour if you said a little less. If you hadn't stopped me with your funny arresting gig, we'd both be out of each other's hair by now!"

"For the record," Jak answered, much to my dismay, "You would have _died _if I hadn't intervened."

"Yeah, well—" I began, but realized he was correct. "Fine. You're right, I'm wrong. Can we all be happy we're still alive and hope it stays that way for a long time?"

I was once again the object of Jak's infamous death glare. It was impossible to maintain any expression other than fear when on the other end of it. His eyes narrowed significantly and darkened by several tones, and his green eyebrows pulled together tightly. It was a look of pure malevolence. "You might not if you keep talking like you're the leader here."

"I—I am the leader," I stammered pathetically. _Why do I always end up in these situations?_ I mused.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Just as I opened my mouth to answer, I heard the raised tone of voice below, heard the gun barrels click. The shots fired freely within a moment, and I barely had the time to duck behind something to avoid getting cringed by one.

"Because a leader would have seen that coming," Jak indicated.

* * *

**End scene. Comments, questions, criticisms, praise? The usual, if it's not too much to ask. Thanks again to all the past reviewers. I hope you're enjoying the progress!**

**~Fishyicon**


	11. Difficult Decisions

**A/N: A thousand thanks go to Bree and Alex for helping me with the first few lines of this chapter. As any writer knows, that is the hardest part!**

**A huge, warm thank you goes out to all the reviewers, especially the newcomers, ersay123 and Sock Monkeys. Leia, thanks for being my muse and pushing me to work on this, and EcoSeeker247, thanks for being just plain awesome when you beta-read! You guys are all kinds of awesome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter." Naughty Dog does! They rock so much.**

**At any rate . . . on with the chapter!**

**P.S. Has anyone seen Wicked? It was freaking awesome.**

* * *

Part Two: Chapter 11: Difficult Decisions

"Who cares who the freaking leader is?" Daxter cried with fury. Precursors, did that thing ever shut up? "I can name one ottsel and a dozen explosive-wielding Krimzon Guards that probably don't! Now, would you two stop throwing words at each other and start throwing punches at them before our bones are reduced to the same solidity as these boulders that are getting blasted to smithereens every second we spend talking?"

I was too angry to look at either of them, so I quickly complied, snatching my gun out of its holster and firing madly. Jak vaulted over the rocks that offered as cover and whipped out his scatter modification, which was much more effective. Show off.

"Got a plan then, _leader_?" I called.

"We could run away, beg for mercy and then hitch a ride when they're gone," suggested Daxter. I rolled my eyes, deliberately ensuring the rodent saw the motion. He stuck out his tongue.

"Got a plan then, _Jak?_" I repeated.

"Yeah," he replied. "Grab what you can, get back out, and kill everyone who gets in your way."

This plan worked well for me. Oh, the fun we two have in the middle of dire situations.

My mind switched to its theoretic "auto-pilot" setting. The entire scene was a blur of fast moving men in red suits, and even faster moving adolescents with guns. The only thing I contemplated was the best route to attain the bombs.

_Duck under that bush, pause to breathe. Dodge the incoming bullets, sprint again. Roll behind the loading dock. Shoot the three guards in range. Keep moving._

This was the sort of activity for which I had trained in the last few years, no matter how unwillingly. Every movement became habitual, mechanical. I was into the action, and nothing snapped me out.

Until my pistol clicked empty.

_No, no, no, no, no, no. . . ._

There were several things that passed through my head in that instant, most-if-not-all of them profane words and curses. But there was one coherent thought that was in fact relevant and useful to my current predicament:

I was not going anywhere without those bombs. And now I did not have shooting to lend part of my attention to. Just avoiding shots directed at me.

Rolling behind the landing platform, I re-holstered the Eco pistol and scooped several small stones in my arms. As I continued towards the container of shining, pristine explosives, I tossed the rocks haphazardly over my shoulder, hoping a few would hit their target.

In no time I had arrived at the deposit site and gathered two individual cases of explosives in my arms. Then there was the trek back, which would be considerably longer when the weight in my arms was brought into factor. I began it anyway, slowly but surely. Upon further examination, the explosives looked like little tin grenades. They clattered as I ran.

Once again, I was back in no time at all. I shouted a quick, "Let's go!" to Jak and his shoulder plushie, but there was no reply. "Come on!" I reiterated.

Then came a, "Can't really right now!"

Oh, Precursors. Jak and Daxter were cornered by most of the platoon, disregarding the ones that lay dead on the ground, bullets wedged in their bodies. And each KG had a gun directed at the dynamic duo.

"Come on, Ginger! I take all the insults back! Just help me!" Daxter implored.

It came down to my decision again. Stay, help, and likely die, or run away and make do on my own. With Ty, I had chosen the latter option. Once again, this was a matter of life or death. Trap or escape. To prove myself or do what I do best and flee.

I needed to redeem myself; I knew that. But something tugged at the back of my mind, reminding me that I did not make this sacrifice for my best friend. So why should I make it for a stranger I loathed?

Still, did I want to live with the regret that I had let someone die when I would have been able to stop the outcome? I hated Jak, but it was a simple contrast of personalities in a bad predicament. We might have become friends in another reality.

I asked myself one question I knew would give me the true answer: Would Jak have done the same for me? Would he stay and help if I was about to be killed?

I glanced at Jak, the one blond head in a mass of crimson. His face was set in a fierce snarl, his hands trying to find an angle for the gun where it could hit all the KG with one shot. He caught my eyes, and his narrowed angrily. _Get over here._

The answer to my question was right there, subliminal in his eyes. Without a second thought, I turned and ran back through to the tunnel entrance.

The decision was notably easier to live with the second time.

* * *

I sat at the opening of the cave, eyeing the ever-present assembly of Metal Heads, waiting to hear something, anything, from behind me. Maybe Jak, maybe the KG. For once, I actually wished for the former of those options. And I got my wish. I grinned sheepishly and stood as he approached me. This was going to be an interesting conversation.

"Hey, Jak—"

_Wham!_ A large, solid object collided with my jaw, so brutally that I was knocked right back to the ground. My teeth clamped down on my tongue and bit down hard, surely drawing a substantial amount of blood. I coughed repetitively to clear it from my mouth , hating the metallic taste, then looked up at Jak incredulously.

"You punched me!" I gasped. My voice was rough and gurgling. "Precursors . . ."

"You self-serving, pretentious, disloyal brat!" Jak shouted.

I scowled as best as I could through a mouthful of blood. But it sickened me so much; it emptied itself from my mouth, along with the other contents of my stomach. I needed some food that would stay down, and soon. "You punched me," I repeated.

"Was that not clear enough?" Jak cried. "Should I do it again to refresh your memory? It probably wouldn't help; you're too stupid and naïve to understand it either way."

I was still in shock, but regaining some sense. "What the hell? You just punched me!" I was starting to sound idiotic, but nothing else was forming itself into words.

Daxter hopped onto my stomach. "Is it not entering your thick head, sweetheart?"

"Ugh!" I exclaimed. I looked up at Jak, hauling myself to my feet and knocking Daxter to the ground consequently. "Jerk!"

"You left us to die!" Jak shouted. He shot me that death glare, but it was a bit different when we were right next to each other. I was taller, if only fractionally.

"If I'd stayed, neither of us would have survived! At least I had the bombs! What did you bring back?"

"You better watch your tongue," Jak snarled. "Bad things tend to happen to you when you lose your temper, so I've noticed."

I growled. I _was_ losing my temper. "Well, at least my eyes don't turn black!"

The pain to my eye was instantaneous. Once again, Jak had managed to get a clear punch on me without it alerting my senses. The entire left side of my face was going to be mangled for the next two weeks. As my thoughts drifted slightly from light headedness, I thought about how fortunate it was that I owned a racing helmet. . . .

As I lay on the floor rubbing my eye to probe for more blood (of which there was none, only unavoidable tears) and possibly permanent damage, Daxter's chuckle filtered into my conscious level. "Give it an hour. That one will."

"You think you're so smart, don't you, rat?" I spat, blinking my eyes and then squeezing them shut again. Words hurt to utter.

"Smarter than you, Ginger. I know how to duck when the big guy starts throwing punches."

I stood once again, dusting off my clothes and spitting another mouthful of blood and saliva out of my rapidly swelling lips. Then I weighed my options, and decided with which I would live happiest. This conversation was clearly going nowhere.

"Look, can we just get back to Haven City and avoid each other for the rest of our lives?" I offered.

Jak actually seemed to think it over before replying, "Fine with me."

His glare never wavered.

"Good. Cause I never want to see you again as long as I live."

Jak sighed in exasperation. "This is getting ridiculous. Can we just set the bombs and blast those Metal Heads to pieces already?"

The words, "I wish you could be over there when these things blow," went unspoken on Jak's part. But one brief exchange of blue and brown eyes confirmed that I understood what his feelings were.

And quite frankly, they were mutual.

"How's your aim?" Jak asked neutrally as I lifted myself up and crossed to the cave opening with him, acting as though this quarrel had never occurred. He could hide his emotions. I could not.

"Usually pretty good," I said, fighting uselessly to keep my tone unruffled. "But right now, it's questionable." I pointed to my soon-to-be black eye.

"Well then." Jak said, and hurled two explosives over the water body. They landed perfectly, rolling towards groups of Metal Heads, respectively. And then they detonated. When the dust cleared, a third of the creatures were eradicated.

"Oh yeah, that's right!" Daxter cheered. "These walking trophies ain't got nothing on us!"

Jak continued to toss well-aimed throws, but I was not ready to let him claim all the glory—as usual. I plucked a tin grenade from the container, fingering it softly. When I took aim, my vision spun out of control, and I grabbed for the wall. I still managed to clear half a dozen with three separate throws, collectively.

"Hate to say it, but that was actually considerably efficient," I acknowledged. The largest part of the Metal Heads had cleared up, and the rest of them had scattered. Even Metal Heads had fear.

Jak shifted to move ahead, and I encouraged him with a curt nod. "Go ahead."

"Why don't you go first?" he asked.

"Because," I intoned, "If we're talking in terms of one person shooting the other in the back, I'm more likely to miss."

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

Then, without even a goodbye, he was gone.

I sighed and collapsed on the floor. A pained groan escaped my lips, and blood trickled out from them. I wiped the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, smearing it with coagulated blood. My body was so powerless, I would have collapsed right there and then. But somehow, the prospect of a genuine bed—or at the very least, a concrete roof above my head—was extraordinarily appealing, and I was able to remain awake for the remaining five minutes before I promised myself I could press on.

Stumbling languidly over Metal Head corpses, pools of Dark Eco and many rocks, I somehow arrived back at the door. I considered rinsing off my soiled clothes and blood-covered face in the salt water, but almost immediately laughed the thought away. Clean water would do just fine.

Thankful I knew my way through the Slums so well, I did not bother focusing on the path my feet trekked. The Underground seemed a safer place to go than my house, because Torn was less likely to create a scene over my current state than Lex. As incredible a brother as that guy was, I did not need someone asking me a plethora of questions right now. I needed to sleep.

"What happened to you?" Torn asked as I staggered down the hallway to the main room. I brushed him off with a wave of my hand.

"Nuffin' 'oo bad," I muttered through swollen lips. "Ow."

Tess was there as well. I did not even dare looking at her; I had been cast enough glares for one day. "Going to bed?" she asked. I could practically hear the glare in her voice.

"Uh-huh."

"Why don't you go home?"

"Why don' you buzz off, 'ess?" I spat—literally.

"Excuse me?" Torn asked.

I sighed heavily. So much for making a quiet entry. "I'm goin' 'o bed," I mumbled one last time before wandering through to the back, locating an empty compartment and doing just that.

When I woke, everything hurt. My eyes, my lip, my arm and legs. . . . How I managed to pull myself from the cot was beyond me. Glancing at the wall clock, I could tell I had slept for roughly eleven hours. Eleven! Torn was going to be unthinkably mad. It was a wonder he hadn't come to kick me awake already. . . .

I changed into non-blood stained garments, rebound my stings (which were beginning to heal, much to my relief) and tried to scrape the desiccated blood from my face with my nails. It cleared away the red, but left my bruises clear and unconcealed. There was no mirror, but I still clumsily twisted my hair to fit over my left eye.

Tess and Torn were still in the common area, along with a few other guards sprawled over several bunks and chatting quietly. Whether either of the childhood friends had left during the night was undeterminable, but I expected so in Tess's case. She looked at me with cold eyes, ones that I could not find the courage to distract my gaze from.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Torn greeted disdainfully. This gave me an excuse to look at him.

"'Morning to you too," I replied, not hiding my contempt. Thank the Precursors, I could speak again.

Something occurred to me. "Hey, what happened to Ty?" I almost feared the answer.

"Oh, suddenly you care?" Tess demanded.

"Well, I just—"

"No," Tess interrupted. "If you want to see what happened, you can go—quote-on-quote—"risk your life" to go to the hospital."

"Never mind," I dismissed.

They proceeded to ignore me after that. I did the same, and looked for something to hold the water I was going to pour from the pipe to drink.

But first, I decided to test if it was actually working. The Baron had shut off the water flow to the Slums in an attempt to eradicate the Underground—but would kill the rest of the impoverish citizens.

I flipped the tap, expecting sludge or polluted, algae-clotted water to spew out. Instead, a clean flow of water poured onto the floor. The shock and fatigue slowed my reflexes, but I managed to thrust the cup under the stream and shut off the water when it was full.

"Hey, you got it fixed," I admired.

"That new recruit did, actually," Tess corrected as I sipped my drink. My throat caught and I almost spat it back out again.

I cleared my mouth before asking, "Which new recruit?"

"Short, blond guy with an orange . . . _thing_ riding around with him."

"Jak, I think," Torn elaborated. "You okay, kid?" he added, evidently noting my expression.

No, I was not okay. Jak and Daxter were . . . working for the Underground. Working for the Underground. The same organization as me. We were on the same side. Doing more or less the same tasks. At the same time.

All those facts swirled around in my head, but I could not seem to extrapolate the conclusion to which they were leading. Working together . . . in the same place . . . at the same time. . . .

The only thing I could think about was the idea that I would definitely be breaking the oath to never see him again.

Then it hit me all at once.

"_Jak is working for you guys_?" I yelled. "How is that possible? He's a cruel, good-for-nothing monster!"

"I take it they know each other," Torn whispered to Tess.

I slamed my fist on th table for impact. "Don't get smart with me, Torn. Of course I know him. And I know that you shouldn't have signed up someone like that!"

Torn stood up and walked around to look at me in the eyes—or more accurately, eye, since the left one was still sealed shut. It was much worse than a glare from Jak, in some ways. Torn's eyes did not change colour, but he was a lot taller, and I had known him for much longer. Moreover, he was the ex-Commander of the Krimzon Guard, a position soon thereafter filled by Erol. So he knew how to sternly deal with people.

"I'd like to see you try to be a fraction as useful as Jak. In the last day, while you've been playing games with friends and sleeping the daylight hours away, he's completed several useful tasks—including destroying the ammo dump—and rescue missions, reported more information than you have in two years, and scared the KG right out of this corner. So you'll definitely go before him."

I frowned, searching for something to say. The agents in the back had silenced. My cheeks flushed with humiliation. My voice was quiet as I mumbled the next words.

"I'll go right now if it makes everyone happy."

That caught both Torn and Tess by surprise. Tess even hopped up from her seat and joined Torn opposing me. "What?"

This was the last straw. I was certain all of agents wondered at some point if there was anything better for them elsewhere, but how many would actually follow through with those fantasies? Almost none, I would reckon. But I was about to change that.

As much as I'd appreciated being with the "good guys" for a while, I could not seem to place who precisely the "good guys" were in this mess of a town anymore. I knew it was not the Baron and the KG; I had witnessed that upfront and confirmed my decision a long time ago. But here, they seemed to have no morals whatsoever. The Underground members would kill if it gets them what you wanted, and take up anyone who shows the slightest bit of skill. Actually, not even skill. They would take up anyone who shows even the slightest bit of aversion to the city system and the people running it.

This Underground had completely destroyed my life, although it was not much to begin. These past two years, I had been walking in a nightmare. And my adventures with Jak, followed by the revelation of his affiliations, were just the peak, the plunger on that bomb that had been building up. All leading up to this.

In my opinion, everyone has a last ounce of courage somewhere in them. It is that strength you get when you know everything is going south from the next words that come out of your mouth. It is that little bit of attitude you develop what uttering your last words. It is what allowed me to repeat myself with as much power as I did.

"I'll leave right now if everyone's in agreement."

I let the question hang in the air for a moment as Torn and Tess processed its meaning. While they pondered, I walked to the back room and gathered any belongings of mine that had perhaps been lost in some confusion any time in the past. When I re-emerged, Tess spoke.

"So that's it? An issue with an old friend and you're back to joining the KG?" My friend's words pained me, but still I continued.

"It's not just that, Tess. It's . . . a whole bunch of stuff, okay?" I tried, stumbling upon words. "And I'm not going back to the KG. They're still the bad guys."

"Who are you joining, then?" Tess inquired ever-indignantly. "The Metal Heads?"

"No. I'm just leaving. I'm not with the Underground, not with the KG, not with the citizens and _not_ with the Metal Heads. I'm going to be on my own side. Nobody's side."

"Torn?" Tess asked. Her tone indicated she was trying to convince him to persuade me otherwise, all of a sudden. Perhaps this move was too bold . . . no. This was my decision, and as incorrect as it might turn out to be, I was going to live with it.

Torn shrugged. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out. It's big, heavy, and made of rock."

So for once, I followed Torn's directions. I swept past the unknown agents who were all staring at me, up the hallway and out the door. Amelle was striding towards the entrance near the same time, and I passed her as I mounted my zoomer and placed my racing helmet on my head.

"Hey, Shae!" she called darkly, her expression switching to one of anger. "We need to talk. Now."

"There's nothing to talk about anymore, Amelle. I'm done."

I left her hanging with those words and a salutary quirk of my hand in her direction as I pulled the lever to throw the hover-bike up to the high-hover zone and sped off.

**

* * *

**

Reviews, comments and critique are requested as usual. Any questions or advice, please don't hesitate! See you all real soon (this thing is getting to the good parts),

**~Fishyicon**


	12. Into the Fire

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jak and Daxter—Naughty Dog does!**

**A/N: I imagine the vendor at the beginning of this chapter having a voice somewhat resembling that of the fisherman in TPL. But you can interpret it anyway you want.**

**Thanks for all the kind reviews once again. You guys are all kinds of awesome. Special thanks (and the promise of no poundings at school tomorrow) to Aurun Arks and all of the aliases he's used in order to pester me to the point of wanting to push him right down the front stairwell every day. You have him to thank for this chapter. **

**Aurun: Also, he's the best person in the entire frakking 'verse. Just saying.**

**Fishy: Damn it, Franco, get off my laptop!**

**Finally, we throw in some stuff that was cut out before. Thoughts appreciated, as always.**

**Once again, my apologies for stuffing with the timeline. It can't be helped.**

**My writing style has changed quite a bit. If you've read my original stuff, you may recognize it more. I think it's all right.**

* * *

**Part 2: Chapter 12: Karma**

As much as I constantly give evidence to the contrary, I really didn't hate Haven City. More accurately, there were parts I could tolerate.

For instance, the Gardens were pleasurable. Aside from Haven Forest or the Mountain Temple, both of which were outside the city, it was the only place where grass grew freely. Even on an overcast day, one still had the impression that the sun was shining. And the obnoxious noises from the yakkows could be surprisingly soothing.

Mar Memorial Stadium was also one of my least-despised locations in the city. Not only were the yard and stadium themselves grand, but it was where I was meant to be. I was all about the competition. There was nothing better, nothing else that could make me feel so alive and spirited. Racing was in my blood. It did not matter that Erol was the all-time grand champion, or that I had yet to make it past Class Two. What mattered was my passion for the sport, and the knowledge that one day I would be the best.

On most days, I enjoyed visiting the Bazaar. It was not very green or earthly, and it was not the host of my favourite pass-time, but the atmosphere was very upbeat and festive. Moreover, it was a fantastic place to get a bite to eat for free. Technically, it was not free, but the Guards in that sector were typically lenient (if they did not see you steal directly), but the vendors never seemed to take account of the lack of one fruit. There was an over-abundance of food in that place, and since stealing happened to be one of my very few useful skills, then everyone was happy.

On that particular day, however, I could have named any manner of places I would rather have been than the Bazaar.

* * *

My eyes landed greedily on a round, orange fruit in a display basket on one vendor's stand. Entranced, I stood and walked casually over to the booth.

"Hello there, my dear!" he greeted cheerfully. "What can I do for you today?"

"Excuse me, sir; how much for one of these?" I already knew the answer—far exceeding my current balance, but I felt the necessity to ask the question nevertheless.

"Two tokens per piece, miss," he replied kindly.

I gasped faintly. "That's outrageous!"

"That's the going rate right now," he told me. "Baron's been raising the taxes, and I need to make _some_ money for my family. At least doing this I don't have to wear a big red suit all day and night."

I nodded in understanding. Suddenly, my stomach became very uneasy and I sensed remorse towards the notion that I would be robbing this man. This was, frankly, ridiculous. Almost everyone in Haven City was suffering in close to the same quandary, so why should there be distinct sympathy for any one person?

However, I did not get much of a choice in the matter of whether I thieved from the kind vendor or not. Someone breezed past me unbelievably fast, and I flew into the fruit stand, sending several dozen fruits of various colours and sizes tumbling onto the hard-packed dirt ground. Humiliated by my maladroit orientation, blood flooded my cheeks, setting them alight suddenly with red almost as bright as my goggles—which were now missing, I noticed fleetingly. My eyes met those of the stall tender, but only for an instant as he immediately looked after the brash figure. I followed his gaze to see the flash of yellow, blue and orange dart around the corner, followed closely by a fire-team of KG.

My heart rate accelerated detectably to keep my veins and arteries flowing with blood that had somehow morphed to ice. If he had seen me, he likely would have intended to knock me over. I decided he had seen me, and that the gesture had been intentional. Jerk.

Ignoring Jak presently, I shot an apologetic smile in the direction of the vendor and kneeled down to collect the fallen fruits. Before he could accompany me at crouching level, I made the split decision to steal whatever was within my grasp, hastily tucking the fresh produce into the largest pocket of my worn bag slung over my shoulders. The need to eat was stronger than my uncharacteristic desire to uphold morals.

I finished replacing all of the fruits, offering a small grin once again, simply because I could not find it in myself to look past my grim situation and smile genuinely. Politely telling the benevolent man that the price was too high, I bowed my head and walked away.

"Hey, wait there, darling," he called back. I turned and took a couple steps back toward him.

"Look," he told me, "you seem a nice girl. I have a daughter too, and I'd hate to see her in such a state as you." I suppose I should have taken offence from the implication, but I was too touched to bother. "How about I give you a little discount? Two for the price of one, eh?"

Suddenly I felt awful; even more so than before. It felt as though someone had dropped a large weight in the pit of my stomach, one that was weighing down the rest of my insides and freezing me to the ground where I stood. I should have pulled all the stolen goods out of my satchel that instant, but the rational side of me reminded the emotional one that such an action would only result in the kindness changing to anger and ultimately no food for me that afternoon.

Fingers trembling and cheeks flushed, I mumbled some incoherent lie and strode off, much more quickly and purposefully than before, in order to avoid being coerced into revealing my rash actions.

Despite the longing growl in my stomach, I punished myself for being so horrible by restraining from eating anything immediately. I wandered some more—for how long precisely, I was not sure. Eventually, a small, beige tent materialized around a corner. It was ancient, worn and barely supported by a few carelessly cut tree branches at the corners. Seeing that there was no other exit from this part of the market, I traced a slow circle with my steps and made to keep moving.

But something stopped me. Rather, someone did. A fleeting perception of those same bright shades of yellow, blue and orange, far too close for comfort, sent me twirling on my heel and marching in the opposite direction. Chances were he would not have noticed me, but I've never been graced with good luck.

I stomped off tetchily, my fists curling in rage. Before I realized where I was going, I was square in front of the old hut from before. The strange aura and dizzying lights emerging from the interior drew me in before my mind could protest otherwise.

It was in fact not a hut, but a tent. The interior was significantly unlike the bare and muted material I had seen outside. It was adorned with many objects for which I had no name, filled with colours I had never observed before and radiating scents of which I could not even begin to imagine the origins. There were totems and artefacts scattered over wooden surfaces of all fashions, and rugs of many shapes and sizes cluttered the dusty ground. A sizeable carved skull sat in the back conspicuously, emanating a lavender glow.

Towards the back of the room sat a small figure, like the idol of a woman. However, it was evident enough that the figure was indeed breathing. As discreetly as possible, I inched forward infinitesimally and tried to get a better look. She was . . . old. Very old. And yet her legs were contorted and folded in a fashion I doubted even I could do. A hat that appeared akin to a bowl sat upon her head, but I had never seen a bowl with Precursor scripture on it.

In my absentmindedness, I had wandered farther into the room. Sensing discomfort from my proximity to the old lady before me, I slowly reeled all my thoughts back in and tried to remember how to back-pace.

Careful not to crush any fragile items scattered near my feet, I kept my eyes cast downward until I reached the exit. This gave the speaker of the next words ample time to position himself in the doorway.

"And just _where_ do you think _you're_ going?" someone squawked in a high-pitch tone, lengthening several of the words. I whirled to face the owner of the voice in shock, banging my head against a set of wooden wind chimes which immediately began bouncing off each other in a tonic chorus of music. But that was not what stopped me in my tracks.

The word "squawk" was indeed very apt considering the circumstances, in retrospect. For the speaker was, as far as I could tell, a vividly coloured monkaw.

"I'm sorry, I just . . ." I stammered, finding my voice buried deep in my throat and drawing it out. "Wait, I'm sorry; who are you?"

The monkaw launched itself off the threshold and flapped in front of my face, displaying his bright plumage. "No, _I_ am sorry!" he declared. I cocked an eyebrow. "I am sorry that you are so thick in the head that you do not realize how you are unwelcome here!"

I glared at the talking animal. Wildlife with a voice was not an unheard of, but having remained inside the walls of Haven all my life, in that instant I found myself completely awestruck. Accepting the notion of animals capable of speech was one thing, and that one thing I had accomplished long ago. As I child, I had even begged my parents to get a pet that could converse with me, to no avail, clearly. But now, perhaps it was a good thing they had declined, since I was scared out of my wits beholding such a creature. But I had made it a goal to at the very least keep an impassive face from now on, so I tried my best.

"All right, I can leave." A delicious idea materialized in my head. "But I was just so curious. I'd hate to go home without at least knowing the name of such a fascinating, beautiful monkaw."

He seemed to accept that. "Well, your admiration is completely understandable. I am Pecker!" he exclaimed, spinning and ending with a flourish. "Now go."

But I was already preoccupied by something else. The old woman in front of me began to stir, blinking open eyes filled with nothing but light haze. No irises or pupils were visible.

I subconsciously stepped closer as I had earlier, the noise of Pecker screeching in my ear ignorable. The woman blinked surreptitiously and began waving her arms around in intricate, apparently significant patterns, leaving a trail of . . . something in every wake of motion. Dust? Eco? Something else? I didn't know.

"What . . . ?" I asked, hoping someone could interpret the question. I honestly had no idea what I had inquired, but Pecker seemed to.

"Argh . . . fine. But let's make this quick, all right? There is a nice _bocadillo_ a few stalls over with _mi nombre_ on it!" The monkaw glided over to the lady and settled himself on her peculiar headpiece, the edges of his wing feathers pressed together pensively, as if the plumes were fingers.

I furrowed my eyebrows in inquiry. What was Pecker getting at? "Make what quick? What are you doing? What is this?"

Pecker shuddered in indignation. "_Ay, caramba!_ Are you always this difficult?"

"Usually, yes," I muttered under my breath.

The woman clapped her hands in preparation. "All right," Pecker said, drawing my attention back. "This is Onin, the Soothsayer. I am her translator." I fought the urge to ask how he was going to translate for me when I could scarcely understand him myself.

Just then, Onin began to draw shapes deliberately with her hands, the motions trailed with the blue . . . whatever it was.

Pecker examined the patterns and skilfully interpreted them. "Okay, she says _Hello. Welcome Shae . . ._"

I had to interrupt. My heart climbed up towards my throat and a nauseous, foreboding feeling settled in my stomach. Already I grew hesitant, not liking where this was going. "How does she know my name?"

Pecker sighed. "Look, Ginger, do you want your fortune or not?"

I growled but managed a "Yes, sorry."

"_Bueno._ Onin says she would love to read your future, for no charge, as long as you return all the goods in your backpack."

My knees went weak, and my body wobbled as my mind lost its grasp too. I was shocked, perplexed, and scared out of my wits. I tried to walk away, but my feet refused to move. I could only hope I wouldn't knock anything over should I collapse there and then. Simply put, if I had been surprised before, I was downright paralyzed with fright at that point.

"Well?"

"F-f-fine," I stuttered. It wasn't like I'd be eating over the next few days given my nausea and consequent severe lack of appetite at the moment.

Onin scrutinized me for a long time, searching for what to say. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about my future—if it was remotely similar to the present, I would not be especially happy. But Pecker had said _fortune,_ not _future._ What the hell did that mean?

The azure designs appeared again.

"Onin says she sees the misfortune of your past. She says it has clouded your thoughts with doubt and distrust. However, you have made your own bad decisions, leading you down the path of darkness."

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the panic and fear and exhaustion and irritation. "And what does _that_ mean?"

Pecker huffed (as well as a bird can, at least) and glared. "Look, she makes all this stuff up. I just translate. Take it or leave it, kid."

"Go on." I was beyond caring at this point.

"She says that the only way to ensure your future safely is to correct the mistakes you've made in your journeys." Pecker grinned mysteriously and narrowed his eyes in a malevolent stare that had me shivering right down to my toes. I knew things were bad when a bird had such influence. "She says that unless you can find a way to repair the fractures in your life and the ones your have caused in others', calamity and misfortune will pursue you everywhere you go."

I stared blankly, torn between taking this seriously given the precursor warnings and brushing it off as another cheap con, a deceit. Mostly I was just waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"Essentially it means that if you don't fix things, your life's just going to get worse and worse. Maybe that doesn't seem right, but hey, I don't make the rules."

Almost as an after-thought, Onin traced a few more meaningless patterns in the air in front of her. "Hmm," Pecker mused thoughtfully. "She says you don't believe her. What, after all this magic stuff and mystic manipulation, you think it's a trick? Bah, I have better things to do than translate for the likes of you. Scram!"

I slowly began to back out of the room, still spooked. In fact, I was astonished my legs could execute the movement, as the rest of my body was still thoroughly motionless.

Just as I turned out the doorway, I heard the high-pitched squawk call out one more thing. "Oh, and remember, _chica,_ even if you think this stuff is mumbo-jumbo, karma still applies."

I mindlessly mounted the first zoomer I laid eyes on and sped off to Main Town.

When I arrived at Lex's—my—house, the sun had long since set and my temper was rising. Technically it was my house too, though I never perceived it that way. I supposed I would have to wrap my head around the notion henceforth, as I had nowhere else but under the stands of the Stadium to retreat to. And honestly, that prospect had crossed my mind several times on the drive here. I'd even taken a few turns toward Mar Memorial before ultimately deciding to lean on Lex for support. All I'd done was increase the time my trip had taken. The previous night, I'd swallowed my ego and forced myself to sleep under the same vent I had slept under two years ago, perched on a rooftop in the Slums.

Fumbling with the key card in the door was the last straw; once I'd managed to insert it and activate the lock, I violently kicked the door open, unleashing a small shriek of fury in the midst of doing so. The motion further aggravated the injuries still present on my leg, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. The door slid off and tucked itself into the wall neatly. I suddenly hated the immaculacy of the door, our home, this part of the city, everything. I spewed a few colourful curses from my mouth to reinforce that loathing.

The house was just as I'd left it last time—had it only been three or four days ago?—except for the fact that Lex was not present. I hefted my bag off my shoulder, deposited it on the kitchen table and withdrew one of the stolen fruits. Over the course of my extended ride home, I'd mused profoundly about the insinuations of Onin's prediction and deduced I didn't care. Screw karma. I already knew the world was out to get me.

As soon as I plucked one of the globes of citrus, however, my head began to reel with words exchanged over the last few days and faces frowning and glaring at me condescendingly and disdainfully. Angered, I hurled the fruit across the room. It collided with the far wall with a satisfying _squelch_, narrowly missing a framed painting depicting a sickeningly heaven-like utopia somewhere in the painter's imagination. No such place existed in the real world.

Adrenaline and rage fuelling my motions, I strode over and dismounted the frame and placed it face down on the floor. I then proceeded to mechanically turn down every picture or drawing I could find, not even stopping to look at the one of the entire family, smiling pleasantly, resting on a table. I didn't know any of those people anymore, except maybe Lex. He, for his part, walked in the door as I was methodically doing my renovations.

"Struck by sudden inspiration?" he asked. No _hello_ for me.

"Go to hell," I told him.

He chuckled. "Language, squirt. What will our parents say when they hear you—"

"_Our parents are dead, Lex!_" I bellowed, spinning around to face him, somehow not breaking any glass with the shriek in my voice.

He looked at me worriedly for a few minutes. I let him. He had needed to hear that. In spite of everything that had happened, in spite of the way our lives had been on a steep downward spiral for the past four years, Lex had remained blissfully cheerful. He needed to quit with this bright spirit and good humour all the time. He needed to quit living in this idyllic hallucination and notice the real world.

"Wanna talk?" he inquired eventually.

"No," I growled, and stormed up the stairs. "Life sucks," I called down matter-of-factly just before closing the door to the study and collapsing on the old couch situated there, shedding my jacket, combat boots and goggles. My room was still there, still mine, but it was little more than a guestroom with a few things stowed in the secluded corners of the closet. A layer of dust lay over everything. Moreover, I didn't feel I deserved the comfort a bed would bring.

"Way to sum up," he shouted back. I wished he could see how I childishly extended my tongue at him afore to drifting off.

Sleep brought no more relief than anything else might have. Normally, my dreams were boring, childish, strange. They had an unrealistic quality that only left my head spinning for a few minutes afterward, wondering what could possibly have inspired such oddity. But for some reason unbeknownst to me, tonight my mind reverted to its old ways—frighteningly realistic and terrifying nightmares.

I was at Haven Hospital. I'd only ever been there once, and had no conception of which ward I stood in presently. The walls were a sterile, uniform white, but seemed to glow radiantly in spite of the monochrome pallor. My feet were propelling me down the hall, towards voices that just seemed to grow farther and farther away the more steps I took.

The walls began to bleed, bright crimson. I moved faster.

Suddenly, I was not moving of my own volition, but because of the hand on my back pushing me forward despite my efforts to secure my feet to the floor, which was covered with sporadic red spotting. My head moved stagnantly on my neck, but I managed to spin it to face my eldest brother.

His name would not form on my lips.

We pushed forward. Erol muttered words in my ear as we moved, ones I blocked out by clamping my hands over my ears. But even closing my eyes did not prevent me from observing the horrors in the rooms we passed.

Ty, bleeding liberally and critically from a hole in his leg. Jak, writhing in the chair as streams of Dark Eco were forcefully injected into his bloodstream. Other, faceless people, screaming in piercing shrill pitches, suffocating in their own blood, crying tears that flowed freely in agony.

At the end of the hallway, the hospital corridor, now completely drenched in scarlet, gave way and disintegrated under my feet. The scene changed from the glowing hospital aura to the dark and shadowy scene of what was now colloquially known as Dead Town.

Blood. Fire. Screaming. Panic.

Everything was red, and my eyes burned from the intensity of the colour replacing the subtle but mystic white—literally burned. I lifted my hands to my face only to have them come away wet and sticky and enflamed. I could not see. Fire engulfed my eyes, my face, my body . . .

I shot upright like a rocket, and sprinted to the bathroom with the speed of one. It was so hot. Without even a glance towards the mirror, I threw the handle on the tap to its coldest setting and ran my hands under it. As soon as they cupped a significant amount of water, I brought them up to my face and scrubbed away the heat with ice-cold water and violent hands. When I finally mustered the courage to look in the reflective surface in front of me, I had to remind myself of Lex nearby in order to avoid punching the mirror with such force I might have broken it.

Even my damn hair was fire.

I was beyond cutting it—the strands were barely more than an inch or two in length. Instead, I brought another handful of water to my face and repeated the action until it no longer felt like I was standing on the sun. Sparing one last fleeting gaze into the mirror confirmed that I looked positively dreadful. Purple bruises under my eyes, red rivulets winding through the whites of my eyes, a frightening pallor to the rest of my countenance. The brown irises were the only aspects of me that had remained unchanged. I looked like hell and couldn't have cared less.

But my eyes frightened me. Red on white. I returned to the study and pulled on the goggles I'd hastily discarded on the floor, stringing them around my head and over my eyes. I tried to steady my footsteps as I went down the stairs.

Lex was scribbling hastily on a collection of papers arranged haphazardly on the kitchen table in front of him. It was clear his mind was elsewhere, though; his hand moved almost perfunctorily against the pages. He looked up as I descended but wisely chose not to remark on my appearance if he noticed anything. He nodded in greeting but turned back to his work, suddenly very engaged in the writing.

"Good rest?"

"Fine," I replied, pouring myself a glass of water.

"Class Three race this evening."

"Yep."

"Gonna race?"

"Uh-huh. Gonna watch?"

"Yeah."

And that was the extent of our conversation that morning. Without another word, I retrieved my racing jacket from the corner of my closet, pulled on my mud-coated boots and tugged at their frayed laces until they seemed somewhat entwined.

Outside, daylight penetrated my blurry vision, vanquishing the residue of sleep from my eyes. Judging by the sun's position, I estimated it was around noon. Unfathomably, I had slept more than twelve hours. Blinking away the incredible concept, I chose to walk to the stadium, making a last minute detour to the Forest for a breath of fresh air.

People had already begun to gather around the stadium by the point I arrived—racers, team managers, the occasional reporter. I navigated through the myriads of figures until I found Maven and Amber.

I smiled tentatively and raised my hand in greeting. Amber returned the gesture, but Maven simply glared in complete abhorrence. Amber caught on and shifted her expression. So Maven had heard of my flight from the gun course. Probably of my resignation from the resistance as well.

"Um . . . room for another racer?" I asked, not too sure how to proceed but prepared to do my best.

Amber shook her head as if to clear it. "Yes, I do have space on the roster. Here," she said, extended a clipboard and pen to me. "Sign-in here, and then go grab an empty time spot at registration."

Maven said nothing.

"Right," I stated, and followed those instructions, systematically repeating the same functions as I always did. I managed to acquired a spot in the second heat. Only once I was perched aboard my faithful NYFE racer, the same I had used in my first race and every one since. I threaded my red goggles over my eyes. I sighed and narrowed my focal point to the here and now.

_Green. _No more panic, no more hyperactive heart rate. A quick glance around confirmed that everyone else had just as focused a look as I did. Good. No amateurs, then.

_Green._ I cleared by mind of Lex, Jak, Erol, that night that destroyed everything I knew.

_Green. _Deep breath, just as always.

_Green._

* * *

**Reviews are loved. Thank you for reading! (And again, sorry, Aurun, for the long wait. Sorry to everyone, in fact. Life gets in the way sometimes.)**

**Translations:**

_**Bocadillo – Snack  
Mi nombre – My name  
Ay, caramba! – Good gra**__**cious!  
Chica - Girl**_


	13. Reality Check

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jak and Daxter; Naughty Dog does! As always, a round of applause, please.**

**A/N: My sincerest apologies for the wait, to each and every single one of you. I've gotten caught up in other fandoms, family, life and other such things. Along the way I think I lost interest in this story, but upon a few nagging messages, stumbling upon BlueEcoFreak's drabble about Jak and Shae for my birthday last year, and one incredibly persistent person—Franco, without whom this chapter would never have been completed—I found my way again and remembered how much fun this is to write. Thank you all so, so, SO much. You have no idea how incredibly grateful I am for every bit of support you give me.**

**What this chapter lacks in size, it makes up for in action and angst. I had to split it into two chapters, because the transitions were too abrupt and it was getting too long. And personally, even I get annoyed with over-long chapters. On the bright side, this means you will get the next chapter much, much sooner than I originally anticipated. This is good news.**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

**Part 2: Chapter 13: Reality Check**

Different people have different ways to achieve catharsis. Some write—which sounds like a perfectly tacky option to me. Some exercise—again, dull.

I race.

To me, there's nothing that compares to the feel of the air blasting past my ears, tangling in my hair, pressing my goggles against my face so tightly it hurts. Bearing down hard on the accelerator until everything is a blur to my eyes. Suspending time and pulling into a screeching turn at the very last possible instant. Gripping the handlebars that have moulded to the curve of my gloved hands in the last years. Getting lost in the cacophony of the crowd shouting and the engines running, applying hover mechanics so as to avoid scraping the metal ground, compensating and growing in volume when the vehicle soars higher above its typical limit.

In spite of everything, in spite of how angry and desperate and frustrated I was, in spite of the faces and words flashing through my brain, in spite of the tension thrumming through every inch of muscle in me, I felt free on the NYFE racer, catching the drift behind the racer immediately in front of me and scooping around them with a burst of speed. Any anxieties seemed to disappear, vanish in my wake.

I had to admit to myself: these racers were good. Skilled. None of them beginners, despite the open class of the race. The Class Three course was outrageous in its design, able to fool the most experienced of racers, intended to weed out the amateurs, but none of my opponents faltered, save those lagging far behind the rest.

I held a steady fourth place for the majority of the race, my favourite position since that very first day two years ago—not intimidating, but not too difficult to accelerate from and move up in the rankings. But by the time the fifth lap rolled around, I reckoned it was time to implicate some interesting manoeuvres. Merely racing felt good, but winning felt even better. I didn't need the trophy for bragging rights, though it was always satisfying to show off yet another gleaming cup to Lex, who had taken to simply rolling his eyes every time I showcased a new one.

A straightaway was around the corner, so I pulled into the turn earlier than I normally would have, gaining a fair bit of ground and applying the boost as soon as the clear track came into view. I planned the move perfectly, speeding ahead of the third place competitor and allowing me to take his place. By using the extra bit of speed before I had completely regained my balance from the precarious turn, I was able to recover control over the NYFE before launching into the tunnel.

The racer in second place was clearly adept, but he took his turns very sharply, swivelling to keep his vehicle from capsizing. I gauged the next few turns, mapping them in my head. Once I'd caught up to him, I jerked the handles and took the turn wide. As his vehicle wobbled, I launched mine in the opposite direction, cutting him off and giving myself ample space for the last turn before speeding out of the tunnel. I grinned wickedly as the stadium light flooded my vision again.

No one said anything about good sportsmanship in these races.

Scarcely twenty seconds on the clock and one more racer to pass. Tricky, but manageable. There were no more empty lengths, so I was going to have to be very careful. I lined myself up on the outside edge of the turn, but spun into it sharply, adding my last boost as I did so.

The finish line was fast approaching, and there was far too much distance between myself and the first place racer. I supposed second place was good enough, but for some inexplicable reason, I was driven to surpass this last opponent.

Two more turns, then straight on to the finish. No more boosts, no more fancy moves I could execute in less than ten seconds. As I matched my steering to the angles of the last corners, I noticed my adversary was drifting very close to the inside of the track, almost scraping it with the NYFE. In fact, I could hear the screech of metal-on-metal. Amateur mistake. Damn it! If only I'd noticed sooner, I might have been able to overtake the last racer. But my time was up, and we both skidded across the finish line, identified by flashing lights and a chequered line on the ground, myself a fraction of a second behind.

I let my faithful racer come to a complete stop and leaped off, tearing my goggles off my head and like as not taking a handful of hair along with it. The adrenaline still fuelled my movements, pouring through my veins with zeal, and yet something seemed off. All my troubles were temporarily pushed to the recesses of my head, and I still sensed something wrong, as if every step I took was deliberate and off-kilter at the same time.

I navigated the crowds of racers and team managers accumulated on the track with ease, and walked towards the exit. Automatically, my head inclined to the left, sparing a perfunctory glance at the scoreboard, seeing my face in the second place slot.

Seeing Jak's in the one above it.

Fire replaced the blood and adrenaline in my body, and I desperately tried to keep my brain from returning to the subject of my dream earlier. I could feel my face becoming as red as my hair and didn't give a damn. My fingers clenched into seemingly permanent fists, and if it had not been for the padded gloves valiantly protecting my palms, I surely would have drawn blood.

_Jak._ What in Mar's name was he doing here? Racing, winning, stealing my trophy from my hands? Red clouded my vision and all I could feel was rage.

Racing was mine. _Mine._ Jak could have whatever the hell he wanted, but not this. He could one-up me in sharpshooting, running, and gymnastics any day. But when it came to racing, it was all me. This was the one place I could think, the one place I could be alive, the one place feel something other than the all-encompassing anger I felt right then.

My legs felt fuelled and ready to buckle under me simultaneous, so I made them carry me out of the stadium as I muttered some words that certainly weren't in any school textbooks I had known over the years. I knew it was irrational, and decidedly unwise, but I was going to give Jak and piece of my mind. I was going to tell him he couldn't just burst in out of nowhere and become the latest sensation of Haven City, robbing me of everything that had ever been important to me, just because he had a prettier gun on his back.

At least, that was my intention before a pair of strong hands fell on my shoulders and stopped my internal tirade.

"Shae," Lex said pacifyingly, and I didn't want to freaking hear it.

"Move, Lex," I told him. Irritating brother that he was, he remained stationary.

His eyes looked into mine, mirrored in every way: colour, depth, intensity. Absently, I noted the lack of KG uniform, civvies in its place. "I know there's some crazy stuff going on right now, but you need to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"This!" he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely with one hand while keeping the other firmly locked around my upper arm. "You're freaking out, yelling and rearranging furniture and just going mad. I know you don't want help but if I'm what it takes to bring back my little sister, then so be it. What happened to the girl who raced for the thrill of it? Who joined the Underground because she felt it was the right thing to do no matter what the hardship or consequences? Who would work herself to the bone and still have energy for a game of cards or tag at the end of the day?"

I frowned. "She grew up."

Lex managed a strangled laugh. "Clearly you can grow up so much in one month. And for crying out loud, you're only sixteen years old! Come on, sis. I'm four years older than you and I still wouldn't turn down a round of hide and seek if you asked me. You, on the other hand, look like you might punch me if I suggest it."

I could feel myself begin to deflate. "Look, Lex, I'm sorry, it's just . . ." I groaned. This wasn't going to be easy to explain, and I didn't have the time. A flash of blond hair caught my eyes, and I realize I had to move fast before he left the area and I missed my chance. "You're right; there's a lot of crazy stuff going on right now and I can't cope, okay? I can't and I just don't want to drag you into it. So please . . . move?"

He blinked. "Do you realize you just apologized _and_ told me I was right in one breath?"

I laughed and groaned again, making the sound longer this time. "Lex . . ."

He studied me for a long time, his brown eyes scrutinizing mine for any hidden pieces or untold secrets, and I tried not to fidget too much. I was tetchy and impatient and about to explode. But this was Lex. He'd never doubted me and he'd never let me down and he'd certainly never done anything to hurt me. He would never, and I couldn't even think of hurting him. So I forced my body to stand still as he continued his inspection. Hurting his feelings was something I could not do after everything he'd done for me.

Eventually, he straightened and spoke. "Your breath smells like a yakkow pen. Might want to grab a toothbrush before you head off to save the world again."

I punched him playfully in the arm, but he caught my fist a split-second before it made contact, pulling me into a hug instead. I sighed and hugged him back. It had been so long since I'd had any human contact. That was completely of my own doing, always pushing people away, but I was suddenly acutely aware of how comfortable, natural this felt. I wrapped my arms around his back and squeezed tightly before pulling back a moment later. "Thanks."

"Hey, hugs are my specialty," he replied with a grin I couldn't help but return. "So . . . do you think you're okay now?"

"No," I answered without thinking. The word suddenly registered. "I mean, yes! Yes, I'm fine. Can I go?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "You are such a terrible, terrible liar."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Lex laughed again. "Well," he began, "since _everything's fine_ right now, would you care to take a walk with me?"

I frowned apologetically. Regretfully, my head shook in negation, and I could see his face fall. "I've got some . . . crazy stuff to sort out." _With my fists,_ I added in my head. "But maybe later?"

His face brightened again. "I have patrol at 0400. Think you can meet me by our old house sometime around then?"

"Definitely." I checked my watch. No matter what happened in the next seven hours, I was going to accompany Lex on KG patrol like I used to and tell him every last thing that was bothering me. "I'll see you there. And I know how much you hate patrol, but since I'll be waiting for you, can you actually be there on time?" I recalled Lex's propensity for tardiness.

He was already walking away, chuckling to himself. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Talk to you later, hot-head."

I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back because it felt like the right thing to do.

* * *

**Any and all forms of feedback are enormously appreciated. Next chapter, we'll pile on the drama, action and angst as we wrap up part two and move into the final stretch.**

**Thank you so much for reading! Drop a review!**

**~Fishyicon**


	14. We All Fall Down

**Part 2: Chapter 14: We All Fall Down  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jak and Daxter; Naughty Dog does! (Surprised?)**

**A/N: Thanks again for the support and reviews, even though I know I left you with a really dreadful chapter last time. I'm hoping some of this (real) angst will make up for it. **

**To be noted: NaNoWriMo begins Tuesday, so I won't be writing this story for a little bit. Not that I've ever been that diligent before . . . Either way, I promised myself I would update this last chapter of Part 2 before November, so here you are! Please read and review. It would make my day. **

**OKAY, LISTEN UP: Please, please, please don't hate me at the end of this chapter. I know I'm a horrible person, and I know some of you even know where I live, but I'd appreciate it if I could live to write the rest of this story. I'll make it up to you all. I really, really promise. Don't hate me. Just enjoy the angst.  
**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

I immediately wished he hadn't left. All the lightness Lex always left in his wake, the care-free feeling I always got when I spent time with him, slowly drained out and was replaced by fire and rage, returning into my bloodstream with a vengeance. _Jak_. That was what needed to be dealt with at the moment.

Without another instant of hesitation, I spun on my heel and marched towards the racing garages, scanning for Jak as I passed all the open gates.

Five garages in, I spotted him, and I felt my fingers curl in once more. My intrinsic need to analyze the situation—establish a plan, think out my next words—just flew out the window. Torn had always said to go with my instincts, something I had always resisted on the good conscience that my instincts were typically very misguided. Now, I had no choice in the matter. Red flooded my vision. Fire. Rage. The parallels to my nightmare earlier might have dawned on me if not for my single-mindedness.

When I caught up to him, Jak was walking out of the garage, already somewhat put-off by the looks of it. The rat on his shoulder was uncharacteristically silent.

I didn't really care.

Jak didn't appear to have noticed me, but I quickly rectified that, grabbing his shoulders and directing his back towards the nearest wall. He had good footing and the presence of mind to resist, but the fight he put up was no match for me. I had momentum, good upper-body strength, and a couple inches on him height-wise.

"What the hell?" he began to say.

I cut him off. "Stay away from me!"

Daxter, clinging clumsily to Jak's arm, shrieked his response as he reaffirmed his grip. "Hey, Ginger! Newsflash: _You__'__re_ the one who followed _us_ here."

"I'm serious!"

Jak, apparently having regained his bearings, chose that moment to disengage my arms and twist out of my grasp. The move wouldn't have won any awards for grace, but perhaps one or two for efficiency or speed. Before I know what had happened, his hands were connecting with my own shoulders and pushing hard. I stumbled back a few steps, instinctively pulling back a few more when he moved to loom over me. Apparently, height was less important than I'd originally thought.

"You'd better think about whether or not you really want to get into this," Jak warned, and the monstrous tone didn't fail to send tremors down my spine. His irises were wide and dark, the blue almost completely permeated by black. With his jaw clenched and teeth bared, he looked feral, animalistic . . . like he was about to strike. I found myself thinking, not for the first time, that this person was absolute terrifying.

Before I had much time to ponder the extent to which he scared me, Daxter chipped in with his two cents.

"Yeah! 'Cause once you've crawled into this hole, you ain't comin' out alive." He smiled wickedly, and looked like he would have gone for a high-five from his companion had Jak not been intent on glaring me into oblivion. I narrowed my eyes and glowered right back, wondering if I could make hi disappear—or, better yet, explode—just by concentrating really hard.

"Don't you dare make this my fault," I growled. "_You_ are the one that just decided to show up and steal every ounce of glory for yourself. How unthinkable it must be to imagine someone being better than you at something. It must rip you apart . . ." I drawled.

"Hey!" Jak cut in. "If you don't want anyone to steal your thunder, you might want to thin about getting some in the first place." Jak's face was as staunch as stone, his eyes just as cold. I began to wonder if I'd been mistaken about them being blue—both irises were completely black. "Don't want to get shown up with a gun? Learn to shoot one."

The rat leered. "But before that, upgrade that piece of shrapnel to some _real_ hardware." His rodent eyes flickered down to the small, rudimentary eco pistol at my hip, and I blushed in spite of myself. "You know, something that can actually shoot more than grapes."

"I don't need your validation of my gun or my shooting abilities. This isn't about the gun, anyway!" I felt my voice gaining in volume and power. The pitch heightened, too. "This is about you and me: _you_ should really stay away from _me_ if you know what's good for you!"

Something snapped in my chest, an invisible restraint that had been holding me back since the moment I'd laid eyes on these two. I sprang forward, both my hands and one of my feet coming up to propel Jak away from me. "This is my city, not yours!" I screamed, voice breaking. Eyes began to turn in my direction, but for once I didn't care. "You don't belong here—not in Haven City and not on this track!" I punctuated this by lashing out with my arm again. Jak was fighting back vehemently, landing hits in any number of places, but as long as I had air in my lungs and words on my tongue, I wasn't stopping.

"That was my race, and the Underground was _my_ cause! My friends, my family, _my__life_. And you've just come along—the Underground's shiny new toy—dropped right out of the freaking sky and taken everything!"

All of a sudden, something hit me hard in the stomach. Only then did I take note of my lungs struggling for staccato breaths, or the blooming spots of pain all over my body. When I opened my eyes a moment later, I was gazing at the stadium hallway from a much lower vantage point: the ground. I couldn't see the rat anywhere, but Jak was looming over me. Forget my nightmares—this was one-hundred times scarier.

His voice was low and burning. "You don't know anything about having everything stolen from you."

There was something personal, something deep and dark and unnerving about the way he said that. Pushing the limits any more was precisely what I should not do in this situation, but my mouth had a mind of its own.

Despite the ache in my knees—well, the ache in all points in my body—I managed to get my legs back under the rest of me and rose to face Jak. He was looking murderous as ever.

"No. _You_ don't know anything. You know _nothing_ about my friends or my family, or how it feels to have the ground ripped out from under you. And not just once—to have everything fall away over and over, practically every time you step outside. You. Know. _Nothing._"

Something changed in his expression, and for a moment it stumped me. While he still looked downright bursting with fury, a face reflecting my own, there was a small pull at the side of his lips. Not quite a smile—too evil for that. It was entirely unreadable.

"You're right," he said cryptically. I could feel my lips turn into a frown. "I don't know anything about that, because every time I've seen you, it's been this: A coward. Pathetic. Weak. Alone."

That stung more than a punch to the stomach.

I felt the telltale sting of saltwater behind my eyes, but refused to let them get far. I wasn't weak.

Also, he was wrong—I hadn't been alone every time he'd encountered me. But it was best for everyone that he never found out about that first instance. Never found out about what I'd seen. What I'd stood by and let happen without any form of protest. Who I'd been with. Why I'd been there. That might open some doors some doors I wasn't ready to step through yet.

I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a frightening manner—it worked for him well enough—and sent another shove in his direction. It might have been half-hearted, considering the feeble force behind it, but I still meant it. As I did the next words. "Stay away from me."

I thought the worst of it was over. I was wrong. Jak's arms flew up again, mirroring my actions and sending me into the opposite wall. My head collided solidly with the stone and I felt a groan slip out from between my lips. He was still approaching me, and I didn't want to be left vulnerable again. Somehow, I managed to regain some footing before he was directly in front of me. Far too close.

"No, you know what? You've started this, so bring it on." Precursors, I hated those black eyes, that sharp growl. "You want to talk about secrets and not knowing? You want to talk about the people in your life? Because it's always about you, right? You know, before you go throwing accusations around, let's look at the real facts: You know way more than you let on."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Want to talk about yourself, right? So let's hear it: How did _you_ know who I was?"

My stomach clenched. No, not this. Not now. Not ever. I was going to walk away and never see him again, and I was never going to have to face this. "I told you," I gritted out, trying my best to use my anger as a cover for the lack of conviction in the lie. "I heard it around the Underground. You've probably gotten proof that I was part of it by now, so what the hell is your deal?"

"You know me, but I don't know a thing about you—"

"Let's keep it that way," I quipped. _Walk __away __now,__ Shae._

His eyes were on me for an impossibly long time. Paralyzed with fear, overcome with the instinct to shrink into a tiny ball and disappear, but unwilling to be outdone, I matched his glare with one of my own.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"_What_ are you?" I returned.

If possible, his eyes grew darker. I opened my mouth to snap back at him, but my eyes drifted to the side and found Daxter's for an instant. He was perched on his conventional spot on Jak's shoulder, eyeing his companion intensely. What I saw in that look stopped me: Fear. Warning. Worry. If the ottsel was beginning to get these vibes, perhaps I had pushed this too far.

And really, what was I doing? Getting into something I didn't want to talk about with someone I didn't want to talk to. Why? I didn't need anything from him.

As if to emphasize that point, Jak loosened his jaw and ground out, "Leave while you still can."

I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding, inching along the wall and away from the pair. "Never will be too soon," I muttered. My actions were unjustifiably measured and cautious; somewhere in the back of my mind, I sensed the need to avoid startling anyone. Jak looked enough like a wild animal at this point.

With one final glare to the back of his head, I stormed off, out of the stadium. The sight of the rankings, with Jak's picture in the first place spot (beside the name of the elusive blue-haired mechanic—huh) sent another pang of hurt to my chest. But I tried to push all those thoughts away as I walked.

Driving a zoomer became increasingly difficult as the wind picked up, the tangles of hair blowing into my already tear-clouded eyes. To add to my dismay, it began to rain. At one point, I let out a loud yell to the sky. "AHHHHH!" Eventually, irritated by my impaired vision and the wary looks cast in my direction, I dismounted the zoomer in an empty corner and walked the rest of the way to my house.

_This __just __keeps __getting __better __and __better,_ I thought.

* * *

I wasn't tired in the slightest, due to the adrenaline and rage still heating my blood, not to mention the twelve hours I'd grabbed before the race, so I had just over six hours to kill and nothing to kill it with. Upon arriving at my house, I did realize a growl in my stomach, and tried to recall the last time I'd eaten. Oh, that's right—those fruits I stole from the vendor. My stomach protested at just the thought, but if forcing food down my throat was the only way to keep myself on my feet, so be it.

With the knowledge of the six hours ahead of me, I endeavoured to cook a decent meal. Normally I just grabbed whatever piece of nutrition was most easily accessible and required the smallest preparation time, but I supposed losing a Third-Class NYFE Race for the first time in two years was a special occasion. Lex would probably be at the Fortress all night, grabbing a couple hours of sleep before patrol, so I would eat alone. I decided I probably deserved it.

An hour was behind me once I set the dishes in the sink. I still wasn't tired. My head kept reeling with thoughts of Jak and Erol and replaying scenes from my nightmare. I noticed all the picture frames were still turned down. Righting them took another fifteen minutes.

I kept doing small tasks, washing the dishes, putting away the items from my bag I still hadn't unpacked. I did some stretches, read a book, flipped through the propaganda posts on the television. The idea was to keep my mind off anything important or aggravating. By the time 0300 rolled around, I was shockingly calm. Everything seemed manageable.

Then I met Lex an hour later and all the pent-up emotions rose to the surface.

"Life really sucks right now," I mumbled into his armoured shoulder, as I'd pulled him into a hug the moment he was within reach. "And that armour is really uncomfortable," I added, pulling away as a few pieces of the suit pressed painfully into my skin.

"The boots are surprising comfy once you wear them in," he laughed. "Let's walk."

And walk we did. Lex under his pretence of performing his patrol, we were able to walk about casually without drawing too much attention. I let all my barriers down, let everything I'd been feeling since storming out of the Hideout come pouring out of my mouth in a continuous stream of words. Lex just nodded and smiled, and while I felt guilty for scarcely allowing him to get a single word in, I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have someone to whom I could vent.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what's good or bad. I mean, the Underground runs around shooting down the KG who are reigning terror through the city; but they're essentially reigning terror through the city because the Underground keeps cropping up and shooing them! "

"And Metal Heads," Lex added.

I nodded but decided not to go there. "What am I supposed to do?"

Lex just smiled. "Keep living. Just trust that everything will work out. You're asking what you should do. I'd say you're doing it."

I couldn't keep the smile off my face. As someone who never knew what to say, when to say it, and when not to say something at all, the ease with which Lex made everything seem all right again just astounded me. "Thanks. You know, sometimes you can really b—"

Then everything went to hell.

A scream tore out from somewhere around the corner. My mouth snapped shut in alarm, and Lex and I exchanged a worried look. I could see the cogs working in his head, trying to think of a logical reason why someone might be screaming—not that I could think of any—but clearly he came up empty.

"Come on," he snapped, and we both took off at a jog. Turning the corner, we saw that the object of the scream certainly had cause for the terrified noise. Krimzon Guards were already sprinting about, bellowing commands and arming their guns. I noticed two lumps on the ground, surrounded by a large amount of red. It took a minute, but when it dawned on me, I had to lean on Lex for support. The air smelled of ammunition, blood and something distinctly dark. Dark Eco. My eyes kept moving until I found the source of all the chaos.

Monster.

It was a monster. That was the only word I could think of to describe it. Horrible. Terrifying. The air was heavy with Dark Eco, I was sure of it at this point. And while the creature had a sort of Metal Head-like quality to it, it clearly wasn't such. I'd seen a lot of Metal Heads in my years working with the rebellion, and this was something completely beyond this world.

Skin a ghoulish grey, eyes black as onyx, ripping with feral hatred and what might have been Dark Eco in itself. It had claws emerging from each finger, each at least a foot in length. There were horns, two of them, protruding from the creature's skull. It was hunched over like . . . like it was about to strike. Dark Eco crackled in the air, taking the form of lightning hitting the ground threateningly. And the monster's mouth was curled into the most horrifying blood-thirsty snarl I could possibly imagine.

Only once I'd gotten over all the details did I finally allow myself to be scared. And _Oh,__sweet __Precursors_ was I scared.

"Run!" I whispered harshly to Lex, only to find he'd already done just that. But in the wrong direction. _No._

He was teaming up with the other KG, clicking the safety off on his gun, pulling on his helmet and running towards the monster. He lifted his gun to shoot the . . . thing, while I stood paralyzed with terror. _No._No, this was not happening. Judging by the rapidly growing number of guards being thrown back, screaming in agony, thanks to the creature that was storming around and shooting Dark Eco at them—with his hands—I knew I didn't want Lex in the midst of that.

Finally finding my voice, I shouted, "Lex! Come back! No!"

He hadn't heard me. And the monster was getting closer. I backed up instinctively, reaching along the wall for a door I could escape behind, but I kept yelling all the way. "Lex! No!" Heart in my throat, I raised the pitch and volume of my voice. He had to hear me. He had to get away. Now. "Listen to me! Get back! Lex! LEX!"

His head turned. My heart fell back into my chest, though still trying to beat its way out, and my knees threatening to buckle. "Lex! Come back! Stop, it's going to kill you!"

He looked at me curiously, and despite the distance, I could still hear him. "Shae, what—?"

But I couldn't speak for my life. The monster was right behind him.

A scream was torn from my lips just as I tripped on one of the burning barrels, barely avoiding getting singed. _No,__no,__no,__no__.__.__._

"NO!"

* * *

**. . . Review? Please? I'm asking nicely! **

**Thanks for reading,**

**~Fishy**


End file.
